


After

by paper_back_writer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Angst but everything is okay, Artist Stiles Stilinski, Bullying, Derek Hale & Laura Hale Are Twins, Family Feels, First Time, I don’t even know what that ending is, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Minor Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, No Mpreg but Derek is kinky, POV Derek Hale, POV Scott McCall, Panic Attacks, Parent Derek Hale, Parent Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall is a Bad Friend, Sexy Times, Sheriff Stilinski is a Good Parent, Student Stiles, Teacher Derek, Writer Stiles, paramedic scott mccall, stiles is nineteen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-04-22 10:52:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 31,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14307096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paper_back_writer/pseuds/paper_back_writer
Summary: It’s been nine years since Stiles fled Beacon Hills. And now he’s back.And so is Derek Hale.The teacher/student ten-years-later fic nobody asked for.





	1. Scott

**Author's Note:**

> So.  
> I started writing this _three years ago_ with no idea where it was going, just jotted down the first scene...and then forgot about it. I’d been reading a lot of teacher/student fics and just thought about what would happen if everyone wasn’t okay with it and Stiles and Derek had to leave town...but then things worked out between them and they came home again...what would that look like?  
>  I had no plan with this story. I had no plan that Scott would end up being...well, you’ll see. So, I’m not sure if this makes sense or...anything. It is what it is :)  
> Also I know f-all about the US School system, or medical stuff...and didn’t do any research...or get this beta’d...so feel free to leave corrections in the comments! ♥

++++++

 

  
Scott's heart clenched in his chest before he really knew what he'd seen. It was a real honest-to-goodness pain that made him gasp a little. There had only been a red blur, a flash of a figure running down the hall outside the hospital room, moving in a familiar way that brought it on. It could have been anything—anyone. It didn't mean a thing at first and yet his insides had turned to ice as if his body knew before he did what was coming.

But everything seemed normal, nothing had changed from the moment before. Sheriff Stilinski was still laughing at the stupid joke his mom had made, and she was still leaning casually on the back of the chair that Scott was sitting in. Her dropping by had become as much as a habit as Scott taking his break at the sheriff’s bedside even though the ward was out of the way for both of them.

Scott had been the first on the scene when they got the call and he'd been here every opportunity since. It wasn't enough to be the EMT that stopped the bleeding, or that he’d driven like a maniac to get the sheriff to the ER. Something in him couldn’t rest knowing that he was there, alone. Scott needed to see with his own eyes that the Sheriff was still alive, still breathing. Even two days after the surgery when he was sitting up with color in his cheeks and looking all the world like nothing had happened. So whenever he could, Scott would make his excuses to his partner and would take his break in the chair beside the sheriff's bed, make sure he was comfortable and had everything he wanted. It was the least he could do.

But then there was the figure rushing by the open door and the squeak of sneakers on the tile floor and for a moment he thought maybe he should get out of there. Two seconds later it was too late.

Stiles appeared in the doorway, breathless and red eyed, practically skidding into the room. He didn't acknowledge Scott's open mouth or Melissa's wide eyes. He just stared at his father like the world was ending. He looked old, not just older. It had been ten years but his skin seemed pale and lined and there were dark rings under his eyes. He looked exhausted. When he tried to speak nothing came out but then the Sheriff held his arms open and Stiles half-ran, half-collapsed into them. Melissa's hands flew up and covered her mouth as Stiles sobbed into his father's chest, the Sheriff murmuring, "I'm okay, kiddo. I'm okay," into the mop of his hair.

Scott could hardly breath. No one had even mentioned Stiles in his presence for a decade and suddenly, here he was. The crushing weight of his guilt—the shame of what he’d done to his friend—came over him like a tsunami, crashing down on him so heavily he couldn’t breathe. It was like time hadn’t passed at all and he was seventeen watching his friend fall apart all over again.

Scott thought it couldn’t get much worse but his instinct to get away as soon as possible was hampered when he heard voices in the hallway and the patter of feet, and all of a sudden a small girl ran into the room.

She couldn’t have been more then five or six, and looked as if she’d been crying. She had sparkling Wellingtons on and Superman pajamas, and she flung herself at Stiles’ legs.

When Stiles pulled himself together and scooped her up off the floor, she clung to his neck as he shushed her. The sheriff reached up and shook her by the foot, saying softly, “Hey, Claudie. Don’t I get a hello?”

The little girl snuffed her face across Stiles’ neck. “Papa said no touching.”

Noah gave Stiles’ that look, the one that Scott had forgotten about. But Stiles just held up his free hand. “You got shot! You seriously want to get mauled by this kid?”

“Yes! Of course I— Just give me the goddamn baby.”

Noah held out his arms and even though Stiles scowled, he gently put the girl on the bed, pointing out where the wires were and telling her how to be careful, while she kissed the sheriff’s face and told him in no uncertain terms that she was not a baby anymore.

Scott was so immersed in watching Stiles, so mesmerized to see him again and clearly a father, that he didn’t notice a figure in the doorway.

“You got room for one more?”

If Scott’s chin wasn’t already on his chest then it would have broken his breast bone, his mouth full open so quick. Derek Hale was standing there. Derek Goddamn Hale. In the same leather jacket he’d been wearing the first day he and Stiles had clapped eyes on him walking down the hallway of Beacon Hills High. The same leather jacket that he’d been wearing when Scott saw Stiles for the last time, climbing into Derek’s car and driving away.

He looked about the same. Still too unbelievably handsome to be real, a little older. Gray in his stubble the only real indication that almost decade had passed. And of course, the baby on his shoulder aged him a little.

“There’s my guy!” Noah said, and reached out.

Derek huffed out a laugh. “I’d love to think that you mean me but…” He walked slowly in, maneuvering the baby in his arms, and handing him over to Stiles. His face was fond and happy as he watched Stiles hold the little one out so his father could coo and grasp his little hand. In contrast to Stiles, Derek did look over and smile at Melissa. When he nodded to Scott and said his name by way of a greeting, it was all Scott could do to not reply, “Mr. Hale,” like he was still a high schooler and Derek could still give him detention.

Scott couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. It was hard to take in. The cognitive dissonance was making part of his brain wonder if he was having a nervous breakdown finally. He was so distracted he almost didn’t feel the weight of his mother’s hand on his shoulder until she shook him a little. “We’ll get out of your hair.”

The sheriff looked over and smiled, looking a thousand times better than he had done in the last couple of days. “Thanks.” His eyes drifted down to Scott. “I mean it.”

Scott couldn’t speak, didn’t have the first clue of what to say or where to begin. So, he simply stood and let his mother guide him out of the room. As she closed the door behind them, Scott glanced back in time to see Derek place his hand tenderly on Stiles’ waist as Stiles leaned into his shoulder.

Scott threw up his hands and hissed out, “Did you see that? I can’t believe he’s back. And still with Derek? And _kids?_ I can’t believe he showed up like this. I know Noah was hurt but after all this time?” He was reeling but nothing could have made him miss the way Melissa avoided his eyes and just hmmed as she turned away. Scott leaping around her and blocked her path.

She glared at him but he could see there was something underneath it. Guilt maybe? It only took a second and him to raise his eyebrows for her to slump a little and confess, “He’s been back. To visit Noah, I mean. They both have.”

Scott had to shake his head. “Excuse me? When?”

Melissa shrugged, doing a bad job at pretending she didn’t care. “A few times.”

“And you’ve seen them? And didn’t tell me?”

“Stiles asked me not to, and after everything—” Melissa sighed. “I’m Claudia’s godmother.” She had the good grace to look a little apologetic but Scott couldn’t quite take it in. It felt like a punch to the gut. His mother’s expression didn’t change but she placed a hand on each of his biceps and squeezed him with something that felt like reassurance. “I’m sorry, Honey. But are you really surprised? You made his life a misery. Why would you think he would want to see you?”

Scott didn’t have an answer. He’d just assumed that when Stiles had left Beacon Hills that he had run from everyone. Clearly, it had only been Scott that he’d been escaping from. And Scott couldn’t blame him.

 

 

++++++

 

  
It was a Monday morning and the hallway was almost deafening as the entire school started to make their way to first period. Scott was about to start freaking out that he couldn’t find his Chem book under all the junk in his locker when Stiles—who, as usual, was lounging up against the lockers next to Scott—suddenly went stiff as a board and stopped talking. A motionless Stiles didn’t necessarily bode well but any cessation of yammering was always very ungood.

Scott was so used to the endless rambling that came out of Stiles’s mouth that he wasn’t even taking it in half the time.  
Okay, most of the time.  
But it was comforting in its own way like white noise in his ear. It had been since the first day they met and he saw no end to it even though they were about six months away from graduating. The only times Stiles had ever been close to being quiet were always bad. His mom getting sick. His mom dying. His dad having to see a specialist about his heart, even though that turned out to be nothing. But regardless, the quiet was bad.  
Worse was when Scott looked up from his backpack to find genuine horror on Stiles’s face, his eyes wide and practically bugging out of their sockets and his mouth hanging open.

Spinning around to look at whatever had freaked Stiles out Scott only saw the usual crowd of people milling around in the hallway. And some guy he didn’t recognize. Dark hair, black leather jacket and scowling eyebrows that seemed to be trying to bore a hole in the piece of paper he was carrying.

Scott turned back to ask Stiles what was wrong except Stiles was doing some weird writhing thing, turning to the wall and trying to hide his face with his arm. Scott could only marvel at the amount of flailing Stiles was capable of in such a confined space. “What’s wrong with—?”

Stiles shushed him violently while trying to sneak a look at the guy as he passed right by them. Scott looked over his shoulder and watched the stranger glide right by them and head into the office down the hall. As soon as he was out of sight, Stiles slumped back, covering his face with his hands, muttering “Shit, shit, shit,” as he rhythmically bashed his head against the lockers. Scott shook his head and went back to his locker, figuring that his friend would tell him what he was freaking about this time once he’d pulled himself together.

“What’s wrong with Stiles?”

Scott could only shrug and shake his head at Allison as she sidled up and wrapped her arms around his waist. It was far too early in the morning to know the hell was going on and when it came to Stiles, there was never a good time to figure out what was going on in his head. “I have no idea. He saw some hot guy and freaked out.”

“The hot guy in the leather jacket?”

“You think he’s hot?” Scott’s heart clenched a little at the fact he’d said that aloud _and could he sound anymore insecure?_

Thankfully, Allison just laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “Well, Stiles better buck up. Apparently, that’s the teacher substituting for Mrs Howell.”

The head banging stopped and Stiles dragged his hands slowly from his face. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Alison smirked. “Nope.” She popped the ‘p’ sounding far too pleased with herself. She was hellishly chirpy in the mornings. “Unless he was lying when he just introduced himself to the secretary”

Stiles covered his mouth like he was about to throw up. Then he grabbed Scott by the shoulder and started to drag him down the hallway, leaving Allison standing there. Thankfully, she’d known the two of them long enough that when Scott looked back apologetically at her, she was laughing.

Scott wasn’t laughing when Stiles dragged him into the boys bathroom. But when Stiles started going down the row of stalls, banging each door open to check they were vacant, Scott started to get a little worried. Stiles was normally a bit weird. But not like this. Not frantic and pale.

“What’s going on?”

Stiles got to the end of the row and spun around. He opened his mouth to speak but then thought better of it and gestured frantically for Scott to come away from the door.

Scott rolled his eyes and traipsed over, not expecting that Stiles would grab him and forced him to sit on the closed lid of the toilet in the last stall. Scott started to protest but Stiles just held up his hand. “Believe me, you’re going to want to sit down for this.”

“Please don’t make me late for class.” Scott didn’t mean to whine when Stiles looked actually freaked out, so he added, “Come on then. What is it this time?”

Stiles rubbed a hand across his mouth before taking hold of each side of the door frame and braced himself there. “Okay. You know that guy from the club that I hooked up with on Friday night?”

Scott laughed. “You mean your _imaginary_ hook up that fucked you senseless, quoted Emily Bronte and made you pancakes in the morning?” It was typical Stiles to come up with a story that sounded like something out of a movie. He was always exaggerating or at the very least tended towards hyperbole. It had taken a few months after he’d come out for Scott to realize that Stiles wasn’t joking about liking guys as well as girls. So when Stiles had started yammering about the insanely hot guy that he’d met at a club, and who had taken him home to spend the night, Scott had just assumed he was joking around about that too. Except the fact that Stiles was looking at him with clear distress, white as a sheet and like he was about to shake out of his skin with nervous energy, maybe he hadn’t been joking after all.

Scott blinked twice. “Are you serious?”

Stiles mouth dropped open, then jabbing violently at his own chest, half hissed, half shouted, “Do I sound like I’m kidding?”

Scott blinked again. “Is—is that even legal?”

Stiles rolled his eyes and pushed away from the stall, spinning once before resuming the position. “Yes. It was. Last week when Mrs Howell was teaching AP English but now…” Stiles closed his eyes. “Now, I don’t know.”

“But—” Scott paused. there were so many things. _But you’re nineteen. But he wasn’t your teacher then, But how in the hell did you land a guy that looks like that?_ “But it was only the one time, right? You’re not dating him or anything…are you?”

The sadness that came over Stiles expression was a little heartbreaking. “No. No, we’re not. I thought he might call but…”

There was something about the way he said it that made Scott feel strangely relieved. He stood up and put his hand on Stiles’ shoulders in his best brotherly fashion. “Well, I think after third period you won’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Stiles winced. “Thanks, bro. You’re the best.”

Somehow, Scott didn’t think it was entirely sincere. “I’m serious. It’ll be a little awkward for about minute, then the two of you can just forget it ever happened. Just chalk it up to experience.”

The way Stiles was looking at him like he was talking a foreign language didn’t exactly mesh with the way Stiles nodded and said, “Sure. You’re right. It was nothing.”

 

 

++++++

 

  
The next few days Scott was working the night shift so he didn’t have much time to think about the fact that Stiles was back in town. The call outs might not have been quite as gory as the sheriff getting shot but it seemed like he didn’t have a moment to breath between heart attacks, falls from trees and anaphylaxis. It didn’t stop his mind from going there every time he had a minute to spare. But it wasn’t until he was waiting between call outs for the vending machine to stop spluttering hot water into the barely adequate cup that he thought he’d have to face up to what he’d done. Not until he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up to see Derek Hale walking slowly to him.  
Scott took a step back on instinct. Not because Derek had ever threatened him but Scott wouldn’t have blamed him for taking a swing. Except he didn’t look angry or like he was looking for a confrontation. In fact, he was wearing a soft smile and fiddling with the change in his hand. He looked like he was just a guy trapped on a hospital ward in need of bad coffee.

“Scott.”

“Hi.” It was a little breathy and tense and Scott thanked god that the vending machine was there so he could make out that he was studying the progress of his order and not trying to figure out how to apologize for almost ruining a man’s career and driving him out of town. “How’s the sheriff doing?” Scott hadn’t been back to see him since Stiles had arrived. He figured it was for the best.  
“Good. He should be coming home tomorrow.”  
“That’s…good.”  
Derek nodded. “I wanted to thank you. For saving him.”  
Scott shrugged. He’d never felt so awkward in his damn life and that was saying something. “Just doing my job. Besides, he’s tough. You know he was backseat driving when he was on the gurney?”

Derek huffed out a laugh. “That sounds like him.”

It hit Scott then that Derek must know Noah Stilinski pretty well. That Derek was Noah’s son-in-law after all. And who was Scott to Noah? No one. Less than no one. The person that drove his last remaining family member to the other side of the country to get some peace.

Scott took his coffee from the machine and stood back giving Derek some space. As he watched Derek slowly drop the quarters into the slot, he said, “Mom says you’ve been back. To visit, I mean.”

Derek nodded. “We try to come back for the holidays when we can. Claudia’s been trying to convince us she’s old enough to visit grandpa by herself but I don’t think Stiles is ready to put her on plane just yet.”

“She looks like him in a way. Though she has your eyes. Which one of you—?”

“She’s ours, Scott.”

“Oh, I know that. Sorry, that’s really personal. I just meant—”

“They’re both ours.” There was no question that was the end of that topic of conversation, not with the way that Derek jabbed the button for a latte. Not that it was Scott’s place to ask that kind of thing in the first place.

“No, you’re right, I shouldn’t have—” He stopped himself. The list of things that Scott shouldn’t have done was already full.

He had to huff out a laugh, just to break the tension. “I’m surprised you’re speaking to me at all, actually.”

Derek shrugged without looking away from the vending machine, his arms cross tightly across his chest. “It’s been years. I can’t hold a grudge, not the way that Stiles can. Plus, it feels like it doesn’t matter now. I have Stiles and the kids. And besides,” he reached down and drew the cup from it’s resting place before turning to look Scott in the eye “You were never my friend. It’s not like you let me down.”

That what Derek said was true was bad enough but the fact that he said it in a way that he sounded like he pitied Scott, that really hurt. There really was nothing Scott could say to that so he just nodded and looked at his shoes.

Derek started to turn away but paused. “He doesn’t want to see you. Just in case you were getting any ideas.”

Scott shook his head and somehow found the bravery to look Derek in the eye. “Can’t blame him for that. It’s not like I don’t deserve it.”

Derek didn’t flinch. “You deserve a hell of a lot worse, McCall.”

 

 

++++++

 

  
Scott had half expected Stiles to ditch third period, but he was already in his seat at the back of the classroom by the time Scott arrived. Admittedly, Scott almost missed him when he walked in, being that Stiles was practically under his desk and had his backpack set up in front of him like a barricade.

Scott slumped down in the chair next to him and started unpacking his stuff. “You okay?”

Stiles didn’t even bother to look over. “Do I fucking look okay?” He sighed and closed his eyes for a second, although his leg didn’t stop violently jiggling. “I was gonna skip but I can’t afford to. I just hope he’s got a short memory and spends all his time looking at the white board.”

It was pretty clear that Stiles was going to be out of luck the moment Derek walked into class, sipping a fresh mug of coffee, looking relaxed in that sort of poised way people with a ton of confidence seemed to radiate in new situations. His jacket was already on the back of the chair, and he had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. Stiles groaned and muttered something about forearms under his breath that made Scott wrinkle his nose. He didn’t get it. He could tell the guy was good-looking in an objective kind of way but he just thought his arms were just kinda hairy.

Derek went to the desk and looked down at the pieces of paper laid out there while he waited for everyone to settle. Once he’d had a cursory glance around the room to check if all the seats were occupied, he cleared his throat. “I’m Mr Hale, filling in for Mrs Howell until her replacement gets here. If you don’t already know, her baby decided to come early but they’re both fine and it was a boy.” He sounded like he’d been having to say the same thing over and over all morning, but it still made some of the girls coo and aww.

“You’ll have to forgive me that I’m a little underprepared. I’m hoping this is AP English?” He looked up and seemed glad to see a few nodding heads. “Which means that we’ll be working on…” He checked the other paper and a fond smile crept onto his face. “Bronte. Huh. Well, I hope you like him as much as I do.’ He drew his chair from behind the desk and planted it next to his desk, turning one of the pages to face him as he lowered himself down to sit. “I’m going to apologize right now if I get some of your names wrong. Let me know if I mess up. Let’s start with…” He ran his finger over the seating plan and picked a name at random. “Martin. Lydia. Why don’t you tell me what you all were working on last week?”

Stiles groaned again and let his head fall to the desk. Scott felt kinda sorry for him, trapped like a bug under a glass. There was no getting away from it. Derek gradually worked his way through the register in no particular order, asking each student something about the class, or about what they thought they needed from him. It was only a matter of time before…

“Okay. Thanks, Marcus. Let see. Stilinski.…” Derek frowned down at the appear and a familiar ripple of laughter passed through the room. Stiles’s real name had been flummoxing teachers since first grade.

Stiles looked like he was going to throw up, but Scott had to give him his due, he sat up finally and cleared his throat. “Yeah, it’s a bit more than a mouthful, right?.” The paper under Derek’s hand crumpled slightly and he froze. Stiles just kept talking. “I don’t know why they don’t just put Stiles on there. Nobody calls me by my real name anyway. Not even my Dad. Unless I’m in real trouble. Which happens a surprising amount. But it’s rarely my fault. Just throwing that out there in case you think I’m a troublemaker or anything. Which I’m not. Just saying. No trouble here. And if you’ve heard anything to the contrary then I can only assume you’ve been talking to Harris. Who’s a jerk by the way…”

To anyone else in the room, the way that Derek pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes and muttered, “I can’t believe this is happening,” under his breath was just the usual response to being confronted with Stiles in full flow. But Scott could tell that as much as Stiles had hoped that Derek had forgotten about their night together, he clearly hadn’t.

Derek let Stiles go on a bit longer. Or maybe Stiles went on to give Derek some time to compose himself. But eventually, Derek held up his hand and said, coldly, “Yes, thank you Mr. Stilinski.”

Stiles let his sentence peter out and it was quiet for all of a second before he seemed to bristle at Derek’s tone and added, “Don’t you want to know what I think about Heathcliffe?”

Derek looked away, seemingly unaffected although Scott thought his hand shook a little. “I think I have a fair idea. Moving on. Mahoney. Daniel.”

The comment meant nothing to anyone else in the room and, even though Stiles looked like he was carving a hole in the textbook with his ballpoint, the class went on much as before.

When the bell rang, Scott was already thinking about lunch and whether Allison was going to come over that night while his mom was out as he bumped along with Stiles, who hadn’t said one word for the rest of the class. But over the scraping of chairs and spontaneous chattering, Derek’s voice rang out, “I’ll expect you to finish the rest of the book by next week, yes, there will be a test, and Mr. Stilinski,” Stiles stopped dead and Scott thought he could practically hear his heart skip a beat. “A word please.”

Scott turned and lay his hand on Stiles’ arm. “I’ll be right outside.”

It was clear that Stiles was actually a bit freaked out given that he didn’t even attempt a clever witticism, just nodded.

Scott looked back once as he left to find Derek stalking past Stiles to close the door behind him. Not that it would do much good. Scott pulled his backpack from his shoulder and let himself slide down the wall to sit on the floor—next to the vent in the door. Where he could hear everything.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Derek, I swear—”

“Swear what, exactly? That you didn’t know? Jesus Christ, I can’t believe this is happening.”

“How in the hell was I supposed to know? You never told me you were working here. Fuck, you never even said you were a teacher!”

“Yeah, and what about you? How come you never told me your name, huh? And what was that shit about you being more than a mouthful?”

“Well, I know three people who can actual pronounce my name, including me, so what would you describe it as and—oh my god, did you think I was talking about—? You think I would bring that up here? I’m not an idiot, Derek! And as for being secretive, I—shit. I don’t tell people I hook up with my name because in a town this small there are exactly two Stilinski’s and it kinda freaks people out if they know who my father is.”

It was quiet for a second before Derek said, “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

Scott could practically hear Stiles swallowing heavily from the hall. “The sheriff. My dad is the sheriff.”

There was the sound of a chair being pulled out, then Derek saying quietly, “Of course, he is. Oh my god. They’re never going to find my body are they?”

Stiles huffed out a laugh and more quietly, so quietly that Scott had to strain to hear it, said, “He’s not so bad. Plus, he’ll know this was my fault.”

Derek didn’t sound convinced. “No, I think banging his underage son is gonna be my fault.”

“I’m nineteen.”

“What?”

“If that’s what you’re worried about then you don’t have to freak out. I had to repeat sixth grade, and my birthday was two weeks ago. Ergo…Besides you weren’t my teacher before today, so…” There was a long silence before Stiles spoke again. “Look, I swear won’t tell anyone. I think even spending the night with you wouldn’t do my street cred much good. I just need to finish up, get the credits for my scholarship and then I am out of here, okay? Gone. I know it might be a bit awkward and,” he sighed, “well, I’m bummed out that you won’t be using my number but—lets just chalk that night up to experience and forget it ever happened, okay?”

Scott figured that Derek must have nodded, as the next thing he heard was Stiles sneakers squeaking across the floor.

“Hey Stiles.” The squeaking stopped. “I would have called.”

“Damn straight, you would have. Mr. Hale.”

 

 

++++++

 

  
Scott was beat. It had been a long shift but he told Kira he would pick her up from work on the way home. His fuzzy head meant that he wasn’t paying that much attention to his surroundings as he walked into the diner. It was pretty full and he took a second to glance around the room for her. Except when he found Kira, he’d kinda wished that he’d just texted her from the car.

Kira was wearing her coat, her bag on her shoulder, looking ready to go apart from the fact she was perched at the end of one of the booths, holding Stiles and Derek’s baby in her arms and nodding as Claudia spoke, jabbing the straw up and down in her milkshake. The worst part was that he could hear Stiles laughing, and see his hand on Claudia’s waist, holding her safely on the seat. Scott just thanked god that Stiles was facing away from.

When Kira saw Scott standing awkwardly by the door, her face lit up and she waved him over. Scott didn’t even have to think about it. He shook his head and gestured to the door. Kira scowled but luckily Derek was right next to her, saying something softly as he drew the baby from her arms. There were quick goodbyes as Kira slid out of the booth. As she started to walk over she was scowling but behind her Derek caught Scott’s eye and nodded. Scott nodded back and went back to open the door just in case Stiles decided to turn around. Making accidental eye contact would be worse than Stiles completely ignoring him like he had at the hospital two weeks before.

“Is everything okay?” Kira sounded more pissed off than worried.

“Yeah. Fine. Did you wanna grab a drink before we head home or—”

“Why didn’t you come over and say Hi? That kid was so adorable and the dads seemed really nice too even though they didn’t get a word in edgewise. I didn’t get to serve them but they were really sweet when I went over to say hello.”

Scott cleared his throat and pressed the remote release for the car doors. “Yeah, I didn’t want to spoil their evening.”

Kira frowned as she pulled the passenger door open. “Why would you have—?” She froze and Scott could see the moment it dawned on her. He’d told her all about it long ago, and they had talked about it again when Stiles had first come back into town. He was simply grateful that she accepted that it was a horrible thing that he’d done in the past, that it didn’t define him. Not like Allison, who couldn’t separate the two things or accept that he could have been so cruel. Kira had been disappointed but she still hugged him and told him that it was all in the past. He just hoped she wouldn’t mind now that his past was sitting a few yards from them and she’d been holding their baby.

“That was _Stiles_?” Scott leaned both arms on the roof of the car to look across at her and nodded. “That was ‘hot for teacher’ Stiles?”

Scott grimaced and pulled back to open his door. “Don’t call him that.”

Kira tilted her head and looked more outraged on Stiles behalf than anything. “Hey, your words, not mine.” She slid into her seat next to him and sat quietly while Scott did the same, not ready to start the car yet for some reason. Eventually, she said, “He’s not what I imagined. I thought he’d be…”

“He’s a good person. They both are.”

“Do you think he’ll ever forgive you?”

Scott shrugged and slid the keys into the ignition. “If I were him, no. Not in this lifetime. Would you?”

Kira slowly pulled on her seatbelt, seemingly considering her answer, then looked over at him. “No, baby. I’m sorry but no. Not a chance.”

 

 

++++++

 

  
After the awkward revelation, things seemed okay for a while. In class, Stiles was a little too quiet, only answering questions if Derek forced his hand and called on him directly. Outside of class, Stiles didn’t exactly mope but he certainly was his usual self. He seemed…sad, mostly. Occasionally, he seemed to loosen up but then he’d suddenly disappear off when Scott was mid sentence to avoid Derek in the hallway, or in the cafeteria, or anywhere when he thought Derek my fall into his eye line. And then he’d be right back to giving everyone the silent treatment.

Nobody else really noticed, mostly as Stiles only social options were Scott…or Scott and Allison. Plus everyone was too caught up in the run up to graduation. Scott noticed though. He made an effort to spend more time with Stiles and it was nice in its own way.

Stiles had been Scott’s friend since first grade. He’d been a year above Scott then and technically one of the big kids but after he’d seen off some kid that was trying to bully Scott during recess, they’d become firm friends and had barely been apart since. They’d drifted a little from each other during high school, mostly down to Allison taking up most of Scott’s brain and time and then when he made the lacrosse team and started hanging out with the jocks more. But now Scott felt like he might be able to make up for all the times Stiles had suffered every last excruciating detail of his and Allison’s romance.

Scott’s main plan of attack in playing the supportive friend—on the nights when Stiles would come over to play video games and eat pizza until they felt nauseated—was trying to get Stiles to talk about the way he was feeling. But Stiles would just wrinkle his nose and mutter stuff about getting gross feelings all over him and then say he was fine to the point that Scott started to call him Stiles ‘I’m fine’ Stilinski.

And things were nice and mostly normal and _fine_ for a couple of weeks. Until the assignment.

Scott knew something was off the moment Derek handed back the papers to Stiles and Stiles looked like he was about to launched himself at the man. Then he sat and fumed, chewing the inside of his cheek and refused to say anything for the rest of the class.

When the bell rang, Scott didn’t even bother to ask Stiles if he was okay. He knew he would just say “I’m fine” even when Stiles was punching his things into his backpack like he was about to kill somebody. Instead, Scott murmured, “You’re gonna break it,” and lingered at the back of the class with Stiles until everyone else—but Derek—had filed out of the room.

Except when they got to the door, Stiles stopped grinding his teeth for a second and pushed Scott outside. When Scott turned around, Stiles was already closing the door, saying, “Just give me a minute.”

Scott tried to push his way back in but it was too late, Stiles flicked the lock. Scott muttered under his breath and sat down heavily on the floor so he could at least hear what was going on but he needn’t have bothered.

“What the hell is this? An ‘F’? You gave me an ‘F’?” Stiles was yelling like he didn’t care who heard him, while Derek didn’t sound like anything out of the ordinary was happening at all.

“You know the rules, Stiles.”

“Wha—What rules? What the fuck did I do?”

“Plagiarism.”

“Are you kidding? Where? Show me!”

There was a shuffling of papers before Derek said, “Here.”

“That is a quote, Derek, and you damn well know it. I was quoting what you told me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well, it looks like you’re claiming you came up with that line of thought and—”

“You want a citation? Sure, here…Hale. Derek. From his work, let me talk pretty to you before I stick my dick in your ass.”

“For Christ’s sake, keep your voice down!”

“Change it. Change my grade, I mean it.”

“Are you threatening me?”

The shocked silence was just as loud as the yelling, until Stiles incredulous and hurt voice broke it. “Oh god, why would think that? I would never do anything to—I just want a fair mark, Derek. Be honest with me, if we had gotten into that conversation in class and I quoted you like that would you have failed me?” There was no answer. “I’m not asking for special treatment. I need to pass this class to get my scholarship, but I’m good enough to do that without cheating for god’s sake. Just—just think about it. And maybe stop being a jerk for five minutes.”

Scott had just enough time to get to his feet before the door slammed opened and Stiles stormed out in such a hurry that Scott had to jog to catch up to him.

“Do you think he’ll change it?”

Stiles shrugged and tried to look like he didn’t care one way or the other. “Fucked if I know.”

“Hey, listen,” Scott grabbed Stiles by the arm and got him to slow down just a little. “I’ve got practice now. Why don’t you come and warm the bench with me and then afterwards we can grab some Chinese food or something.”

Stiles glowered at nothing in particular for a second. “Can I get Kung pow chicken?”

Scott bumped him with his shoulder, and although Stiles didn’t really smile, Scott thought maybe he’d made a difference.

But Stiles must have still been brooding as halfway through practice, Scott saw him jump down from the bleachers where he’d been sitting and stride purposefully over to the parking lot. Scott thought maybe he was getting something from his Jeep at first but then he saw Stiles jog over to where Derek was throwing his stuff in the back of his car.

Scott was a little worried that Stiles might still throw a punch over his grade especially when the two of them started to argue. Scott couldn’t hear what they were saying from that distance, or through his stupid helmet but neither one of them seemed particularly happy. Then Stiles smashed his fist down on the hood of Derek’s car and stormed off. Moments later the Jeep roared out of the parking lot, followed in quick succession by Derek’s Camero.

When Scott managed to finally get his cell out of his locker, there was a text from Stiles.

_Sorry I had to bale. I just needed to get out of there. See you tomorrow._

Scott was pissed but Stiles was so apologetic the following day, he couldn’t stay mad for long. Especially, as it seemed like Stiles mood improved gradually from that point. He was smiling more, and the quiet, moody shit disappeared. He still didn’t engage with Derek much in class but the fact that Derek changed his grade seemed to cheer Stiles up no end.

At least that’s what Scott thought had brought on the change of heart. It didn’t cross his mind that Stiles might have any other reason to be smiling. Scott was completely oblivious, right up until he was standing in the doorway to Stiles bedroom, open-mouthed and praying for brain bleach as he watching Stiles and Derek trying to frantically pull up their pants, both disheveled and embarrassed.

Scott had just let himself in, sure that Stiles was still studying. That seemed to be his go to excuse for not spending so much time with Scott, and Scott, wanting to be a good friend, thought he would surprise him for a change. Take him out for curly fries maybe. Except it was Scott that got the surprise when he found Stiles on his knees between Derek’s legs, both of them with their jeans around their ankles.

Derek looked horrified, sprawled out on the bed, his mouth red, and his shirt bunched up to his armpits, dragging Stiles’ pillow down to cover himself. Stiles was panicking, trying to pull up his fly while hopping after Scott after he turned to escape back down the stairs. “Scott, come on, man. Jesus, please stop. Listen for a second.”

“You said you were studying!”

“I know—”

“You said you were over him!”

“I know. I—”

“You lied to me!”

Stiles grabbed Scott by the shoulder and spun him around before he could open the front door. “I know, okay! I just—I tried to stay away but I can’t. And it’s just a stupid technicality that’s keeping us apart. Please don’t say anything. Please.”

Scott could hardly believe it. “Jesus, you’re talking like you’re in love with him or something.” Stiles’ gaze dropped to the floor in the face of that. Maybe he was hoping it would appease Scott but all it did was make him even angrier. “Don’t be fucking stupid. You’ve known him all of five minutes. I can’t believe you’d choose him over me.”

Stiles did look up then. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve been your friend forever. We’ve never had any secrets. Never. You know how important that is to me.” Stiles at least had the good grace to nod his head and look ashamed. He was probably the only person other than Allison who knew the fear he had of betrayal; of dishonesty. What his father had done to his mother and to him—all the lying and cheating and broken promises—Scott had more than his fair share of trust issues. He was fragile and Stiles knew it. And he’d lied anyway. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“I was going to!” Stiles’ arms reached out like he was going to grab Scott but Scott shrugged him off before he had the chance. “I was. I just wanted to figure out what was happening in my head first.”

“In your bed is more like it!”

“Yes, that too but—Christ, I’m not choosing him over you any more than you chose Allison over me. He’s my Allison, Scott!”

Under other circumstances, that would have gotten a snort-laugh at least from Scott but he wasn’t in the mood. But it did break the tension, enough for Scott to compose himself. “Look. I’m so pissed at you I can’t think straight right now. I’m just going to go.” He started to turn away adding, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Stiles nodded, then said quietly, “You won’t say anything, will you?”

Scott shook his head. He wasn’t planning on it and he didn’t. All he did do was brood and wallow in his own self-pity, anger, and resentment that was more his own issues raising their heads than anything Stiles had actually done. But he let the feelings build and fester anyway. And of course, Stiles didn’t even notice or try to make it better, because the next day the anonymous notes started coming.

 

 

++++++

 

  
It was nine thirty on a Sunday night, when Scott’s phone rang. He was lounging on the couch with one hand loosely wrapped around Kira’s shoulders, the other nursing a beer, and his attention vaguely being held by the TV. He wasn’t even sure what they were watching. Not that Kira was actually paying attention. She was busy scrolling through social media on her tablet. Their life was hardly rock and roll but after the week Scott’d had, he was glad for the easy companionship and mind-numbing content.

His ringtone soon spoiled all of that though. The noise put him instantly on edge. Generally, if anyone called this late it was work asking him to pull a double or come in early or some bullshit. He was going to be so glad when flu season was over and done with.

Kira’s deep sigh came right along with Scott’s and she shifted a little so he could reach for his cell which was on the coffee table. The number wasn’t one that he recognized, but Scott answered anyway.

“Hello?”

“Scott?”

Scott frowned at the unfamiliar voice. “Yes?”

“It’s Derek. Derek Hale.”

Scott was torn between rolling his eyes at that last redundant introduction, and freaking out that somehow Derek had his number.

“Derek. Hi. Everything okay?”

“No, not really.”

Scott dragged his arm from around Kira as he eased himself slowly off the couch. “Is it Noah?”  
_“No, no, he’s fine. Its–”_ He seemed to sigh before going on. _“It’s Claudia. I hate to bother you this late, but Stiles is freaking out and your mom is working and she said that you would be the next best person to ask…”_

Scott couldn’t help but feel a little awkward mostly as he recognized just how awkward Derek must have been feeling. “No, that’s fine. Anything. Ask away.”

Derek sighed again. _“She’s been off the last few days, then yesterday she came down with a fever. We gave her Calpol like usual and she was doing okay until tonight and now she’s just burning up and nothing we do is bringing it down. I figure it should burn itself out but—”_

“Does she have a rash, or sore throat? Joint pain?”

_“No. But she almost delirious. Do you think we should take her to the hospital?”_

Scott rubbed his forehead for a second weighing up the options. “Look, I’m about ten minutes away. If you want I could come round and take a look. I completely understand if you don’t want me to but—”

There was a scrape of fabric down the line and muffed voices before Derek’s voice was back again. _“You sure you don’t mind?”_

Scott was already pulling on his shoes. “I’ll see you in ten.”

Scott stood outside the Stilinski’s front door for the first time in five years and just froze. He hadn’t even thought that it would be a problem until he was walking up the front path, his steps gradually slowing until he got to the door. Even his arm stayed rigidly at his side, unable to raise it to knock.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to. Derek had obviously been watching from the window and pulled the door open abruptly. He looked tense and tired and said, “Thanks for coming,” as he stepped aside to let Scott come in.

It took a second for Scott’s feet to get with the program, probably hindered by his brain’s inability to process the fact that Derek looked so comfortable in the place that had been a second home to Scott for so many years.

The place hadn’t changed that much. It was still recognizably the Stilinski’s house, but the furniture had had an upgrade and somehow the front room was smaller than he remembered.  
Noah was sitting in one of the couch chairs, propped up on cushions, looking with concern at Claudia who was lain out on the couch in a nest of blankets. She was pale with her eyes closed and her hair stuck to her skin in thick sweaty clumps.

Scott exchanged a quick hello with the sheriff before crouching down beside Claudia. He picked up her tiny wrist, delicate like a bird, and felt for her pulse while he looked at his watch. “How long has she been like this?”

“Her temperature went up yesterday, but she’s been off since Thursday. We figured it was just a cold.” Derek sounded worried as he loomed over the back of the couch watching Scott’s every move.

It didn’t bother Scott much. He was used to protective parents. It bothered him more in a way that it wasn’t Stiles standing over him.

He felt the glands in her neck then rummaged around in his bag for the ear thermometer. Derek winced when Scott placed it in her ear but Claudia remained oblivious. Apart from her breathing a little fast, it just looked like she was asleep. “And you’ve checked her all over for rashes? Has she complained that she has any pain, upset tummy or anything?”  
Derek just shook his head. “Nothing.”

Scott hummed and waited for the beep of the thermometer. “And the baby seems okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Stiles is just settling him upstairs.”

The beep came before Scott had a chance to know how to react to that let alone reply. He frowned at the numbers on the readout. “What was her temperature earlier?”

Derek’s mouth open and closed again. He looked a little distressed that he didn’t have the number at hand but Noah piped up from his chair. “104.”

Scott hmmed and sat back on his heels. “It’s down to 102 so that’s good. How long has she been asleep?”

Derek looked a little embarrassed. “She’s not asleep. She’s faking it.” It wasn’t exactly what Scott was expecting, especially when Derek sighed said “Claudie, open your eyes.”

“I’m too sick, daddy.”

“Scott, says you’re getting better.”

Claudia huffed and opened her eyes slowly. She was clearly still a very sick little girl but she was managing to pout like Scott had ruined her favorite game.

“Hi Claudia. How are you feeling?”

Scott thought he had his beside manner down. Especially with kids. And old folk. But from the way that Claudia pressed her lips together tight, it was lost on her.

“Claudia,” Derek’s tone was less tired and more like a warning. “Scott asked you a question.”

“Papa said I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

Derek made a noise somewhere between weariness and exasperation, and unfolded his arms. “Scott isn’t a stranger.”

  
“Papa said—”

“Yes, I can imagine what Papa said, thank you.” Derek leaned over the back of the couch. “It’s important, Claudie.”

The defiance on her face was gone in a second, melting away under Derek’s pleading eyes. She turned slowly to Scott. “Are you a doctor?”

Scott shook his head. “I’m a paramedic. You know what that is?”

Claudia rolled her eyes. “I’m five, Scott.” And for a second Scott thought maybe she was Lydia Martin’s kid. “You bring people in the ambulance.” Her eyebrows shot up. “Do I have to go in the ambulance?”

Scott shook his head. “Not today. Do you have a headache? Or a pain in your tummy?”

Claudia shook her head. “Grandpa went in an ambulance.”

Scott smiled. “I know.”

“Scott was the one that drove it,” Noah said, from his chair, “Did your Papa tell you that?”

Claudia’s eyes went wide and she tried to sit up. “You did? Did you do his bandages and his operation and—?”

Scott shook his head and gently pressed her back down by the shoulders. “Easy, sweetie. Don’t get too excited, okay.”

The slight amount of effort had Claudia looking beat, but she still had the strength to say, “You shouldn’t call me sweetie. That’s harassment. My name is Claudia Hale.”

Scott looked up at Derek, feeling slightly panicked. At least, he was until he saw the look on on Derek’s face that said ‘Kids. What can you do?’ and heard the laugh that Noah was trying to cover up as a cough behind him.

“Well, I—I apologize, Miss. Hale.”

“That’s okay. Can I listen through your ear things?”

Claudia seemed content to play with his stethoscope for a moment while Scott took Derek aside to talk to him.

“I think she’s okay but if you wanted to take her in it couldn’t hurt. They might want to give her some fluids but chances are they’ll just send you home. With no other symptoms it’s more than likely just a virus. Just keep doing what you’re doing. If she’s not better in a couple of days, see a doctor. But if the baby gets sick, don’t wait.”

Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I really appreciate you coming out.”

Scott smiled and shrugged. “It’s the least I can do. Really.” Part of him wanted to try to apologize for what he’d put Derek and Stiles through but he knew there was no point. Nothing he could say or do would make up for what he’d done. So, instead he just looked over at Claudia, who was listening to her Grandpa’s heartbeat. “It’s like you’ve cloned Stiles and given him your eyebrows.”

Derek huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, she definitely gets her mouth from him. And the attitude. And the love of curly fries, although Stiles has convinced her that any curly vegetable is just as delicious.”

Scott smiled a little, his heart warmed somehow knowing that Stiles must be a great father. But then he was back to reality with a bump of realization. Quietly, he said, “He’s not coming down is he?”

It wasn’t really a question, more a statement of fact. Derek shook his head and said equally quietly, “No. He’s waiting for you to leave.”

Scott nodded, resigned to it. “I guess I better be going then.”

He started to move to retrieve his bag but Derek caught his arm. “I wish I could say I was sorry…”

Scott shook his head. “It’s okay. Really. Call any time if you need help.”

Derek nodded and let him go. It only took a second to retrieve his things. Noah shook his hand after handing back the stethoscope. “Thanks again, Scott.”

“It’s no problem. You take it easy, okay?”

Noah smiled and nodded and looked liked he was getting that same lecture at least once an hour. Scott smiled at Claudia who smiled and waved and said goodbye. And it would have fine, had he not caught her slightly too loud voice as he closed the front door slowly behind him, saying, “Is Papa going to be mad that I spoke to the bad man? I know he said I shouldn’t,” and Derek replying with a sigh in his voice, “I don’t think he’ll mind just this once.”

It hurt less that Stiles had made him the boogeyman, than it did that Derek hadn’t thought to change her mind about him.

 

 

++++++

 

  
It was a week after Scott had caught Stiles and Derek together that Stiles showed him the first note but it was clear that something was wrong to anyone who cared to notice for the previous seven days.

Scott had known it was more than simply him catching Stiles with his shorts around his ankles that had him spooked and Scott was actually a little put out that it took Stiles so long to actually come to him with the problem.

“You’ve had how many?” Scott stared at the letter in his hand as he leaned against the side of Stiles’ Jeep..

Stiles stood next to him, his leg jiggling so hard he was practically vibrating; with one thumbnail between his teeth, looking tired as all hell. He pointed briefly at the paper in Scott’s hand. “That’s number eight.”

Scott frowned. “But it’s Sunday. It thought you said they were being left in your locker.”

Stile threw up his hands, but he looked more frightened that indignant. “They were. Which I why I figured they would stop at the weekend but then yesterday one came to my house. My house, Scott. What if my dad had seen it?”

“Did he see this one?”

Stiles looked at Scott like he was an idiot. “Am I breathing in and out? Is there a warrant out on my dad for murdering a substitute teacher? No, Scott! No, he didn’t see it!”

“Did you tell Derek?”

Stiles scowled and snatched back the letter. “No.”

“Are you going to?”

Stiles pressed his lips together tightly and stared at the floor for a second before replying. “No.”

“But the letter says—”

Stiles rounded on Scott, his eyes blazing. “I know what it says! They’ve all said the same thing! But that’s not the point right now.”

Scott sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “So, what is the point?”

“The point is—!” Stiles closed his eyes as if to gather his thoughts before starting again more quietly. “The point is…did you tell anyone?”

Scott’s eyes went wide as he suddenly realized why it was that Stiles had come to him. “Oh my god! You think I told somebody and now they’re sending you hate mail! I don’t believe this.”

“So, you didn’t tell anybody?”

“No! I told you wouldn’t and I haven’t said a word. Even though I still think you’re out of your mind by the way.”

Scott’s indignation seemed to satisfy Stiles and at least had him looking a little sorry for accusing his best friend like that. Scott still couldn’t quite believe that Stiles had thought he’d done such a thing. Still, he asked quietly, “So, who do you think it is?”

Stiles slumped back against the Jeep next to Scott, their shoulders rubbing together. “I don’t know. Could be anyone. We’ve—we’ve been careful. To not be seen together but still…”

“Well, clearly someone knows something.” Scott chewed at his lip and watched Stiles absently grind the paper into a smaller and smaller ball between his hands, before asking quietly, “So are you going to stop? Seeing Derek, I mean.”

Stiles lifted the ball as if he meant to throw it but then thought better of it and tossed it in the Jeep’s open window. “Maybe. I don’t want to.”

“You’re really going to risk someone reporting you to the school over this guy?” Scott couldn’t believe that Stiles would do something like that just to get laid.

Stiles’ lips pressed together and for a second Scott thought he might cry. “I don’t want to lose him. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

It was just about the worse thing Stiles had ever said to him.

Stiles didn’t talk about the notes again but it was clear they kept coming. He was quiet and more jittery than usual and it was starting to affect his grades.

“I can’t believe you got a C.” Scott stared down at the red mark on Stiles’ assignment.

Stiles banged his head against the wall for the umpteenth time. “My dad is going to kill me.”

“Can you retake it?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, she said if I can get it in by Friday.” He snatched back the paper and shoved it into his backpack before they set off down the hall to their lockers.

“You okay?”

Stiles laughed but the sound was bitter and weary. “No. I’m not sleeping much and—” he sighed. “I told you-know-who about the poison pen letters so that was awesome.”

Scott winced. “How did he take it?”

Not great from the look on Stiles’ face. “There was some yelling and some things said in anger that I think we both regretted. He was so angry, like out-of-his-mind angry, which was weird ‘cause his eyebrows do this thing…anyway. I think all it achieved was that we’re both in a foul mood now.”

It took two more steps before Scott realized what had been missing from what Stiles had said. Scott grabbed him by the arm as he stopped dead in the hallway. “Wait. But you broke up with him, right?”

It was clear from the way Stiles shifted his weight and looked guilty as all hell what the answer was going to be, even if he did try to gloss over it with joke. “I’d be crazy to leave him no knowing the make up sex is that good.”

The joking mood evaporated pretty quickly when they reached his locker and saw what had been hastily tapped to the front of it. Stiles ignored the snickering and stares and just ripped the piece of paper away. He tore his locker open and tried to keep going like nothing had happened, but it was hard to ignore the whispers and the fact that Stiles was white as a sheet. Scott couldn’t help think that it would have been better if Stiles had laughed or gone along with the joke somehow.

It had been stupid, really. Anyone could see that it was a badly photoshopped picture of Stiles and Derek kissing with hearts all around it. No one would have imagined for one second that it was real but the way Stiles was reacting wasn’t helping.

“Dude. Are you okay? You look like you’re going to have a panic attack or something.” Scott gently placed his hand on Stiles’ shoulder but it was shrugged off almost as violently as Stiles was shoving books into his bag.

“I’m fine. I’m—” He wasn’t fine. He was shaking and pale and his breathing was starting to speed up.

Scott did the only thing he could think of and dragged Stiles into the boys bathroom. He felt weird manhandling Stiles to the sinks but as soon as they were there Stiles turned on the faucet and splashed water on his face before reeling away and sinking to the floor with his back pressed against the wall.

Scott slumped down next to him and waited while Stiles pulled himself together, muttering and shaking and running his hands through his hair so much that Scott worried he was going to start tearing it out in handfuls.

After a minute or two, Stiles took a deep, shuddering breath. “You swear you didn’t tell anyone.”

Scott nodded, and replied with absolute certainty. “I swear it. I wouldn’t.”

“It’s just…things have been differently lately, since Allison. And since you started bonding with your lacrosse buddies. I wouldn’t put it past Jackson to be doing this.”

Scott shook his head. “You’re my best friend, Stiles. And besides, Jackson’s not so bad when you get to know him.”

Stiles laughed and some of the tension seemed to seep out of him. “At least, your sense of humor has’t changed.”

Scott smiled even though he wasn’t sure what Stiles meant and bumped him with his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I don’t want to be late for chemistry.”

Things went on much the same for the rest of the week. Notes in Stiles’ locker, crude mocked up pictures of Stiles and Derek that got more explicit as the days went on, Stiles losing his grip a little more every day.

Scott watched and waited and figured any day now that Stiles would break up with Derek and it would be all over. But Stiles was stubborn and just took it.

On Monday, he looked a little better. Scott commented on it as they walked into English.

Stiles smiled. “No hate mail today. That’s three days now. I think maybe they’ve quit.”

It clearly hadn’t occurred to Stiles that maybe the opposite had happened. He was smiling right up until his phone began to ring.

At first, he didn’t seem to realize that it was his cell and glanced around the room like everybody else. It didn’t take long for him to start scrabbling for his backpack, a bright red flush raging up out of his collar and onto his cheeks as the ring tone got louder. Instead of his usual tone, the chorus of “Hot for Teacher” was blaring out, getting louder as he pulled his cell out of his bag. The silence when he finally got it turned off was deathly for all of half a second, then the giggling started.

Even Scott couldn’t help smiling at the ridiculousness of it, but Stiles looked mortified. The laughter grew until Derek slammed his book down on his desk and cleared his throat. “Mr. Stilinski, can I have a word?” He started to move to the door as Stiles scraped back his chair, and added, “The rest of you can take a minute to ensure your cell phones are off.”

Scott couldn’t hear what went on in the hallway but they were only outside for a minute or two before the door opened again and Stiles came back in, beet red, and went straight to his desk. He slumped down, head in his hands and avoided looking up for the rest of the lesson. Scott thought Derek might be upset but actually he looked more worried than anything, although he carried on with the lesson like nothing had happened.

When Scott asked Stiles about it after, Stiles just shrugged. “He just wanted to know if I was okay. I bet you anything this was Jackson. Did you see they way he was smirking just before it happened? But I can’t figure out how he got hold of my phone to change the alarm like that…”

“Does this mean you’re going to stop seeing Derek now?” It was hard to believe that Derek would let this keep happening when it was affecting his job too.

Stiles looked nervous and bit into the top of his pen before tapping in on the desk. “We’re going to talk about it later.” He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut for a second, before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just a few more weeks and I’m out of here. Maybe if we can hold on that long…”

Except it didn’t quite work out that way. The following week, the notes started coming again. Somehow they didn’t seem to rattle Stiles as much. he wouldn’t tell Scott what they had talked about but he seemed less upset. Not okay by any stretch of the imagination but not as on edge. Until the last one.

Scott wasn’t even there to see it. He was supposed to meet Stiles at his locker before lunch but even before he got there he heard the yelling. It was a fight. Not that they happened that often but the jeers of the small crowd that had formed made it pretty clear what was happening.

Scott got there at the same time that the teachers did. All he saw was Harris dragging Stiles up off the floor, his bloody fist still swinging, and Coach bent over Jackson who was flat on his back with blood all over his face.

Someone was shooing the students away and they were taking their time. Somehow in the melee, Scott bumped into Isaac and asked him what had happened.

Isaac looked embarrassed. “Stiles got another note on his locker. He just went crazy and started pummeling Jackson.” Scott could hardly believe it. Stiles getting pissed off was one thing but actually beating the crap out of someone wasn’t Stiles at all. Isaac clearly could see what he was thinking and blushed a little. “I couldn’t believe it either but, well, this picture didn’t look fake to me. Seriously Scott, is he really fucking Mr. Hale?”

Scott shook his head and did a pretty good job of denying everything, especially he couldn’t believe what had just happened. He thought about ditching class but he went anyway, although he didn’t take in a word that was said. All he could think about was the look on Stiles’ face as Harris held him back.

Stiles had always been sweet, kind, a little weird maybe but wouldn’t hurt a fly. The last note had been too much. It was one thing to have people speculating about him and the substitute teacher but actually having proof out there where everyone could see it. Things had gone too far.

As soon as class was over, Scott made a beeline for the principal’s office. He expected to see Stiles sitting outside. Instead, Scott rounded the corner to find the sheriff in deep conversation with Derek. Scott skidded to a halt and watched as Stiles’ dad spoke quietly and Derek nodded along, both standing with their arms folded across their chests.

Scott couldn’t tell what was being said but he almost had a heart attack when the sheriff reached out and put a reassuring hand on Derek’s shoulder. Derek nodded gratefully until a voice called them both into the office and they walked away together, with matching expressions of apprehension.

“Hey.”

The voice behind him made Scott nearly jump out of his skin. He flailed around to find Stiles walking over. “What the hell, dude?”

Stiles smiled weakly and held up his hand, showing off the bandage. “The nurse patched me up. Got to go for an x-ray later. Can’t believe I broke my hand on Jackson’s face.”

“I can’t believe you hit him! And I can’t believe I just saw your dad and Derek talking. Do they know each other?”

Stiles blushed a little and started walking to the chairs outside the principal’s office. Scott followed on auto pilot. Normally, if one of them was in the chairs then the other would automatically be involved in some way. It only seemed normal for him to be there.

Stiles cleared his throat. “Yeah, they do. Kind of.” Stiles didn’t elaborate until Scott held out is hands in despair. “After the phone incident, we told him.”

“What?”

Stiles tried to smile but it didn’t quite work out. “Derek came with me and we sat my dad down and told him about us. And the notes. And everything.”

Scott slumped back in the chair, not quite able to get his brain to function. “Why the hell did you do that?”

There was a shrug and Stiles just looked at the floor for a while, his leg jiggling with nervous energy like always. “He needed to know. Derek thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Was he mad?”

Stiles laughed then, and wiped his good hand across his mouth. “You could say that. But we talked it out. Dad set some ground rules…I guess I just kinda blew that though.”

He looked pained and Scott wanted more than anything to reach out and pull him into a hug, like he’d been doing for the last twelve years. “What do you think will happen?”

Stiles pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Suspension. If I’m lucky. But I don’t know if they’ll even let me graduate. If it had been anyone other than Jackson I wouldn’t too worry but I just know his father will want me charged or some bullshit. But we have the notes. I kept everything. I don’t know how much difference it will make that he was harassing me.”

Scott’s stomach dropped and he bent forward to hold his head in his hands. “Stiles. I can’t believe you did this.”

There was a huff of surprise beside him. “You didn’t see the last one, Scott. The bastard had to have been following me to take that picture. That son-of-a-bitch had it coming.”

Scott’s stomach was roiling and he felt sick with guilt. “Why didn’t you just leave him?”

“I think Derek will have to quit before he gets fired. If he gets canned for sleeping with a student it’ll ruin him. He’ll never get another teaching job and he’s only just qualified too.”

Scott sat up and looked over at Stiles, the concern on his face and got it for the first time. “You really love him, don’t you? You were never going to leave him.”

He wasn’t sure when he’d ever seen Stiles look so vulnerable. “He was going to come with me, when I went to Columbia. He was going to teach while I got my degree. But I’m guessing I’ll lose my scholarship now so I don’t know what we’ll do.”

Scott closed his eyes. The words came as a whisper when they finally came. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles sniffed. “It’s done now.”

Scott shook his head. “Why couldn’t you have left him like I told you? Why did you have to be so stubborn?” Scott could see the realization blossoming in Stiles’ eyes and that he was fighting it. “I never thought—I never thought it would go this far. Or that you would think that it was Jackson of all people.”

“Scott…” Stiles voice was fractured. Hurting with disbelief.

“Why didn’t you listen? I kept telling you that nobody knew but me. I told you. I just wanted you to listen—”

Scott wasn’t sure if Stiles had pushed him or if it was just the way that Stiles launched himself up from the chair that had Scott landing on the floor with a thump. It knocked the air out of him for a second, long enough for Scott to take in Stiles’ red face and the rage in his eyes.

“You? You did this? Why would you do this?” It was so quiet that it hardly registered in Scott’s ears.

“I—I was angry. I never thought you would lie to me. I thought you would guess it was me right away but—it was like I was invisible or something. I just wanted you to listen. I went too far.”

“You think!” The roar echoed around the quiet halls, stinging Scott’s ears making him flinch. “How could do it? How could you—?”

Scott had already started to bunch up and cover his face with his arms when Stiles fell on him, his face so dark it was almost unrecognizable.

Stiles barely got a swing in before he was being pulled back. Scott peeked out from behind his hands to see Derek holding him back. It took some effort and in the end all he could do was redirect Stiles as he ripped himself from Derek’s grasp.

Then the sheriff was there, pulling Scott to his feet asking, “What the hell happened now?”

Except Scott couldn’t answer. He just watched silently as Stiles paced away, then slid to the floor, his back making the metal lockers clang. He sat holding his head in his hands sobbing while Derek crouched in front of him talking quietly, looking like all he wanted was to wrap his arms around Stiles and make it better but knowing he couldn’t. They looked broken. And it was all Scott’s fault.

 

 

++++++

 

  
His hand was on the refrigerator door when the door bell rang. Scott squinted at the clock on the kitchen wall and wondered who the hell would be coming around this early in the morning. He was still slightly out of breath from his run and more than a little sweaty being that the day was warming up nicely, but he figured that whoever it was had the wrong house so they wouldn’t be staying long enough to complain about him stinking up the place.

When he opened the door, he nearly choked on nothing to see Stiles standing there. Or rather Stiles turning away as if he was leaving. Stiles turned back slowly when he heard the door open, not taking his hands from his back pockets. Scott didn’t know what to think or what to say given the sheepish look on Stiles’ face so he just turned and walked back into the house, leaving the door open.

He went straight to the refrigerator and opened it, trying his best to quell the knot in his stomach as he heard Stiles following him in slowly and closing the door.

“You wanna drink? I guess it’s too early for a beer.”

He mumbled the last part but Stiles caught it. “You day drinking again?”

That caught Scott a little off guard and he had to pause a second. He took two bottles of water from the shelf, closing the door again with his hip. “Mom told you?” He slid one bottle along to counter in Stiles’ direction not wanting to get too close.

Stiles folded his arms across his chest and leaned his shoulder on the doorframe, making no attempt to take it. “She might of mentioned it.”

Scott shrugged and cracked the seal. “I still a shrink once in a while but I don’t feel likes it’s a problem any more.”

It had been a problem for a while. After what had happened, he’d managed to make it to the end of the semester without falling apart but once graduation was over—after Stiles had left town and Allison had dumped him—there was a while when he couldn’t get through the day without a drink. At first, he’d told himself he was just celebrating his freedom, but it didn’t take long before that excuse got old and he was dreaming up all kinds of reasons to add a shot to his morning coffee. When he bought himself a hip flask to take to class in the fall, he realized that maybe he should probably get some advice from someone other than the guy at the liquor store before he ended up sleeping in the parking lot.

Stiles didn’t say anything, just made a noncommittal noise that could have meant he believed Scott or that he didn’t—or that he didn’t care either way.

They stood there in silence that seemed to stretch on and on until Scott couldn’t stand it anymore. He screwed the cap back on the bottle and set it down saying, “So we gonna do this or…?” Stiles looked confused and just shrugged. “I’m assuming you’ve come over here to take a swing at me.”

Scott shook out his shoulders but Stiles just frowned and looked him up and down before huffing out in amusement. “You kidding me? You look like you could kick my ass six ways from Sunday.”

“You saying you don’t wanna hit me?” Scott was ready for it. He had been for nine years. Maybe if Stiles had got the chance to give him the beating that he’d reserved for Jackson, perhaps they both could have found some closure. “I think I deserve it, don’t you? And you look in pretty good shape.”

For a second, Stiles looked like he was seriously considering it but then he slowly unfolded his arms and reached out for the bottle of water. “The only workout I get is running around after two kids all day. Christ knows why we thought a second one was a good idea.”

“How’s Claudia doing?” Scott felt like a tool that those weren’t the first words out of his mouth when he’d seen Stiles on his doorstep.

Stiles huffed out a laugh as he was drinking and did well to not choke or spill water all over himself. He wiped his chin with the side of his hand. “The princess is fine. Especially after grandad bought her her own stethoscope. We can’t get the things out of her ears. Looks like she’ll either be a doctor now or a—”

“Safecracker.”

They both said the word together and for a second it was like old times. They smiled easily and laughed, but remembered pretty quickly that things weren’t ever going to be that way again.

Stiles cleared his throat. “Thanks, by the way. For coming over last week. Derek frets worse than I do about that stuff.”

“He said you were freaking out.”

“He was projecting. I think he feels guilty. I was still in school when Claudie was born so he was at home with her. Now he’s working and I’m the stay-at-home time dad and I think he misses it.” He paused and squinted over at Scott. “You can ask me y’know. I can tell you’re dying to. Everybody wants to ask.”

Scott shrugged. He knew exactly what Stiles was talking about. “Derek pretty much told me that it was none of my business.” He took a drink of water and tried to ignore the patient, you-know-you-want-to look that had gotten him into trouble more times that he cared to remember when they were kids. “Fine. How is that Claudia looks so much like you and Derek? ‘Cause it’s crazy how she looks like the both of you. Even with her sassy mouth and the judgey eyebrows. It’s uncanny, dude.”

Stiles laughed and the sound of it shocked Scott so much he almost fell back. It seemed to surprise Stiles a bit too. He cleared his throat again and seemed to guard his features into something more less friendly. “The Hale genes are strong stuff. You should see Derek’s family. They look like they were made from the same goddamn mold, with the eyebrows and those cheekbones. His sister offered to be an egg donor and she knew a woman that had been a surrogate before…” He shrugged. “It all happened pretty fast. And then there was Claudia.” He took a deep breath. “And then some idiot thought it would be a shame for Claudie to grow up without a sibling, and now we have James.”

Scott smiled. “I’m guessing that the idiot was you?”

Stiles tried to fight his smile. “Yeah. Well. Let’s just say Derek caught me at a vulnerable moment.”

Not really wanting to think about the last time he seem Derek and Stiles in a vulnerable moment, Scott changed the subject. “Is that where you’ve been?” he asked tentatively, “With Derek’s family?”

Stiles frowned almost like he expected Scott to know that already. “Yeah. After—well, Derek was never supposed to be teaching here. His mom knew someone on the school board and he was visiting a friend when—“ _when he came barreling into our lives and ruined everything_ , Scott wanted to say, even though he knew it wasn’t what had happened. Stiles cleared his throat. “Anyway. After I lost my scholarship, she pulled some strings back in New York and got me into a semi-decent college. We lived with them for a while then we got a place in the city near the school Derek works in.”

  
“I’m sorry.” The words had been balancing on the tip of his tongue since he’d seen Stiles at his father’s bedside. They fell out of his mouth before Scott could stop them and he bit down on the inside of his cheek before he could follow them with anything else that would humiliate them both.

He didn’t know what he was expecting back, so when Stiles just nodded and said, “I believe you,” he wasn’t sure how to process it. Especially when Stiles followed it with, “But I don’t forgive you.”

It hurt more than Scott thought it should. He’d never expected forgiveness. He didn’t have the imagination to figure out how in the hell he could ever make up for what he had done to Stiles. He knew they would all just have to live with it. But as much as he was resigned to that, too much time had passed for him to have Stiles rubbing it in his face like this.

“So, why are you here, Stiles?” Scott tried to hide the irritation in his voice and did a bad job of it.

Stiles scrubbed his hand through his hair like he used to when he had his buzz cut. It looked weird now that he was that much older, his arms muscled instead of lanky, his hair long enough to flop around. “Claudie asks a lot of questions,” he said quietly. “Like it never stops. Never. She even talks in her sleep for fuck’s sake.

“She started asking things about you and I realized I didn’t have an answer other than I still hate your guts.” Stiles stilled and looked for a second like he was going to backtrack but then he pressed on. “Except it’s more complicated than that and…” He stood up straighter and refolded his arms across his chest. “We’ve decided to stay. In Beacon Hills. We like New York fine but I want to be closer to my dad, and it would be nice for the kids to grow up in a house with a yard. Derek interviewed for a teaching job and…”

Scott frowned. “Yeah. And? I don’t see what this has got to do with—”

“If we’re going to be seeing each other around the place then I have to do better. For Claudia. And for James when he’s older. I can let them think that holding a grudge is the right thing to do. All this bitterness—”

“So…what?” Scott felt defensive for the first time. “You wanna kiss and make up? I don’t deserve that and I don’t want it. I ruined your life, Stiles. You were my best friend and I couldn’t stand the thought of sharing you with anyone else.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t give a shit what you do or don’t want. And the only thing you ended up ruining was yourself by the sounds of it. I lost my scholarship sure but I still got to go to college. I still have Derek. Sometimes I think I won’t trust another living soul as long as I live but I have everything I wanted. You didn’t take that from me. So, if it means I have to pretend to play nice with you so I can be a role model for my kids then I’ll do it. Maybe you’ll understand that when you have children of your own.”

Scott had to look away. He could feel the emotion rising in his throat, making the words rough when they came. “Kira’s pregnant.”

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Stiles nod slowly. “She mentioned it. When is she due?”

“Six months, two weeks and five days.”

Stiles chuffed. “You got it down to the minute, huh?”

Scott couldn’t help thinking that it was five o’clock somewhere. And he could really do with that drink. “I’m scared to death.” It came out a whisper. It hurt to say it out loud.

Stiles frowned like he knew what was coming and didn’t want to get sullied in Scott’s feelings. Stiles lifted the bottle of water up to take a drink then wiped his hand on his jeans to get rid of the condensation. “You’ll do fine. It’s a bit daunting at first but if I can do it, then you sure as hell can.”

Scott’s hands were shaking a little so he stuffed them under his armpits, hugging his arms across his chest. “No, I mean—I just feel like I’m out of my depth. You know what my dad was like, how he treated us. I’m just…”

Stiles looked aghast. “Jesus, Scott. You’re not him, okay? You’ll ever be like him.”

“Really? Because the way I treated you, that was sure as hell like something he would have done.” The sudden revelation had Scott biting his lip, but it was the look from Stiles that really had him flinching.

“Why did you do it? I still don’t really understand…”

Scott had asked himself that a thousand times and more. It had been the only thing that anyone had said to him for a while. His mother with that look on her face that was worry and anger and disappointment all rolled into one. The sheriff looking at him like a stranger, drawn and worried. Allison asking without being able to make eye contact, and then when she did, Scott wishing he’d been able to send her away before he’d seen the look of disgust in her eyes. Not one of them had really gotten a straight answer. Partly because Scott couldn’t bare to think about it, but mostly as the only person that deserved it had driven away in a Camero without looking back.

“I was jealous,” Scott whispered. “You’d been my only friend for so long. You were practically my brother. I was already freaking out about you going away to college but I figured we’d make it through with weekend visits and holidays, like we planned. But then…but when Derek showed up and you were so gone on him, I just—I knew you wouldn’t have time for me anymore. I told myself that I just wanted to shock you into dumping him but I think deep down I wanted to hurt you the way you were hurting me.” He glanced up to see Stiles watching his impassively. “I fucked up. I went too far. I wasn’t thinking and I just…I really fucked up.”

It was deathly quiet in the house, the hum of the refrigerator and a neighbor’s dog barking were the only signs of life.

“Damn. I owe Derek ten bucks.” It was the last thing Scott expected to hear. There was a slightly curve to Stiles’ lips too. “I had it down to you having a psychotic break or something, but Derek had you pegged. He said you were channeling the jealous rage of a red-headed woman from day one.”

“I really am sorry, Stiles.”

There was a pause before Stiles shrugged, like he was weighing up just how much he was willing to give. “Like I said. I can’t forgive you but—” he sighed heavily, the weight of his shoulders dragging him down a little. “But we need to get passed this. Because—well, it is complicated. Part of me does still hate your fucking guts but I think that’s because I really loved you, man. We were brothers. And you did fuck up but—and this is a big but—you aren’t anything like that piece of shit sperm donor of yours. ‘Cause if I thought for one moment that you were I wouldn’t be stood here right now.”

Hope bloomed in Scott’s chest for the first time in a decade. It made it hard to breath. “What are you saying?”

Stiles ran the flat of his hand across his mouth and leaned back against the counter. “I’m saying, things can’t go back to the way they were. Even if they could, I don’t want them to. But that doesn’t mean to say that we can’t move on.”

The expanse in Scott’s chest eased a little, enough for him to offer, “You want to start over?”

Stiles shrugged. “Yeah. I guess. Maybe. I don’t know if we can be friends but we can try to be civil.”

Scott nodded. “That would be a start.”

Stiles nodded back as he pushed himself upright. He rapped on the counter, looking a little nervous again. “Good. Well, that’s…okay then.”

“Okay.”

“What time does Kira get back?”

Scott figured his mother must have told Stiles that Kira was visiting her parents. He glanced at the clock on reflex. “About eleven.”

“Good. Dad will be firing up the grill about one o’clock, so we’ll see you then.”

Stiles turned to leave, nodding with his lips pressed together in an awkward smile and Scott could hardly believe it. It took him a second to get his breath. “So—so that’s it?”

Stiles turned back and shrugged but said nothing. Scott stepped forward. “You just turn up and invite me to lunch and that’s it?”

The long deep breath in and sigh out Stiles gave sounded tired and resigned, not like the old Stiles, who would have told him to go to hell or that he was being an asshole by trying to pick a fight and make things harder than they had to be.

This Stiles just shrugged and looked up through his lashes. “I’ve had enough drama in my life, Scott. You either come or you don’t.”

There was no accusation there. No anger. Just indifference. And when Stiles turned to leave again, Scott couldn’t help say quietly, “I always loved you.”

Stiles paused, his hand on the door. He didn’t turn around but before Scott heard the snick of the door closing behind him, he thought he heard Stiles whisper into the quiet suburban morning. “I know, man. Me too.”

 

 

 

++++++

 

 

 


	2. Derek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tags and rating apply for this chapter
> 
> Bit of a re-con. I changed that Stiles scholarship was to Columbia not Stanford, for reasons.
> 
> I still know nothing about the US education system, buying a house, medical stuff or anything else. Research is for the weak.
> 
> Unbeta’d and a bit wonky. Yell in the comments if need to change anything.

  


++++++

 

 

The office was quiet, only the sounds of kids taking advantage of summer activities out in the sunshine filtering vaguely through with the light from the windows. The room was bright and airy—the white walls filled with wall charts, scuffed metal filing cabinets, and bookcases neatly stacked with box files—and yet, Derek felt like he was suffocating.

It was a world away from his last principal’s office. That had been all beeswaxed walnut tables and leather chairs; you could smell the history—and the money—coming out of the furniture. Not that this place was exactly some inner city academy on its knees. He’d thought he could be happy here. When they’d offered him the position he really thought he could be happy.

The door banged open suddenly, making Derek jump and scramble to his feet. He didn’t make it all the way up as the principal, Richard Walker — _“Call me Rich”_ —waved him back into his seat as he bumbled in; a pencil behind one ear, and a stack of messy papers in his hands. Derek had never met anyone in his position that seemed so haphazard. _Seemed_ being the operative word. He had good reason to suspect that the old guy was sharp as a razor.

Principal Walker let the bunch of papers spill from his hands onto his desk as he rounded in search of his chair. “Sorry for calling you in like this, Derek.” He wheeled the chair back to his desk and sat down into it with a bump, bouncing slightly as he scooted himself into place. “I can only apologize for the short notice, but I wanted to keep this informal.”

Derek cleared his throat and tried to ignore the icy pit of dread in his gut. He’d known the second he’d received the phone call what he was being pulled in for. He didn’t even need to tell Stiles either. They’d just make eye contact across the breakfast table, wordlessly accepting that they knew this might happen. And all Stiles had done was stand up and walk around to place James in his arms so he could finish spooning oatmeal and mashed banana into his eager mouth, knowing Derek needed the comfort only their baby could give him.

“That’s okay, sir.”

Walker flinched at the form of address. “Yes, well.” When he rubbed his chin with the knuckles of one hand, Derek realized the guy was stalling and mentally started to prepare himself. “So, I want you to know that I’m pleased you accepted our offer. God knows, we could use someone with your recommendations in our English department. But…” _Here it comes._ “We’ve had a complaint. Not even a complaint really, more a concern that was brought to the attention of one of the board members. You know how it is?”

Derek let his chin fall to his chest and sighed. “I’m pretty sure I do, yes.” It was clear that Walker was as uncomfortable as Derek but they both knew he had a job to do. Derek looked up and trying not to scowl. “What exactly was the— _concern_?”

“Someone seemed to have the impression that you had to leave one of your teaching positions because of an inappropriate relationship with a student.”

Derek rubbed at his temple and felt all the world like laughing. It wasn’t funny. It had never been funny. It was hysteria more than anything. He should have been house hunting, or taking his kids swimming, or trying to occupy himself while Stiles dragged him around the Mall. And yet he was here, having to defend himself again.

Walker frowned. “I’m hoping that you can deny it outright.”

Derek let himself smile, just a little. “Well, I can tell you that someone had definitely been misinformed. Or at least has the wrong end of the stick.”

That didn’t seem to reassure Walker any. “In that case, you better tell me about the right end of the stick.”

Derek sat up and resisted the urge to straighten his tie. “When I came to Beacon Hills on vacation ten years ago and I started a relationship with Stiles, he was nineteen and not my student. When I was offered a temporary position at Beacon Hills High it was purely an unfortunate coincidence that he was in one of the classes I was teaching. When we realized it was going to be a problem, I resigned.”

It was quiet for a moment while Walker regarded Derek with narrow eyes. “I see. You have anyone that can corroborate that was the case?”

Derek shrugged. “I’m sure Sheriff Stilinski would be happy to talk it over with you.”

Walker’s eyebrows shot up. “The police were involved?”

Derek did laugh then, much to Walker’s surprise. ‘I guess you could say that. He’s Stiles’ father.”

Surprise was replaced with suspicion. “The parent of the student you were dating will give you a reference?”

Derek smiled and nodded, and strangely looked forward to hearing what Noah was going to think about the phone call he’d be getting. “I certainly hope so. Otherwise it’ll make dinner tonight a little awkward.” He huffed out stifled laugh at the look of confusion that generated and shrugged by way of an apology. This was a waste of both their time. “Stiles and I have been together for almost ten years, married for seven and have two children together. So, if the concern is that I habitually prey on students then yes, you have definitely been misinformed.”

“I’m starting to see that.”

“Can I ask…?” Derek wasn’t sure whether to push it but Walker seemed like a good guy and he figured he may as well figure out where he stood. “This concern. I don’t know how to… I noticed that you have a Mr Whittemore on your board.” The way that Walker took a deep breath and sat back in his seat, told Derek everything he needed to know.

Still, he was pleasantly surprised when Walker sighed and adjusted his glasses. “For appearances sake, I’ll give the sheriff a call this afternoon but as far as I’m concerned you’ll be starting next week as we arranged. If that’s alright with you?”

  
_“Did you tell him to stuff his job?”_

Derek laughed despite himself, and put the keys in the ignition. “One of us needs a steady income. And he was kinda embarrassed about the whole thing, I think.”

 _“I should damn well hope so. Fucking nerve.”_ Derek could hear Stiles shifting the phone from one ear to the other and tinny cartoon voices in the background. _“That mean you’re on your way home?”_

Derek smiled to himself at the way Stiles was able to ask without actually asking, and pulled the car door shut. “What do we need?”

_“Milk, cheese strings and diaper cream.”_

“So rock and roll. I’ll be about forty minutes.”

_“Cool. I’ll try to get the monkey to sleep. That should give us about fifteen minutes for sex before dad and Claudie get home.”_

“Rock and roll _and_ romance. My life is complete.”

_“Yeah, yeah. See you in forty.”_

“ Love you.”

_“Love you too.”_

Derek threw his phone on the seat next to him and had to take a breath. Coming back to Beacon Hills was the right thing to do, he knew it was. Stiles was happy, which was all Derek had ever wanted. Still, it stuck in his craw that it meant he had to actually tell someone that he didn’t ‘habitually’ try to fuck teenage boys. There had only ever been one. And if he was lucky, he’d have fifteen minutes to do it again if he didn’t get held up at the grocery store.

  


++++++

  


“Fuck.” Derek had to squeeze his eyes shut and just let himself pant, his arms almost shaking with the effort to hold himself up and not come like it was his first time. It wasn’t. Hell it wasn’t even the first time with the guy currently digging his heels into the back of Derek’s thighs, rasping out, “Yeess. Come on. Fuck me,” as he writhed beneath him.

“Christ, you’re so tight.” Derek wanted to mouth at his throat, all pale and dotted with the dark marks that littered his body, but he knew he needed to get all the way in the guy before he allowed himself that. _Needed,_ not wanted.

They’d fucked the night before after stumbling back from the club. Jordan had been called into work at the last minute so Derek figured he’d just go out by himself anyway. It was his last night in town and he figured it wouldn’t hurt. It had been loud and sweaty, the hot air laced with a suggestion of poppers under the dry ice, and before too long he’d spotted brown eyes and soft lips smirking at him across the floor. Didn’t take much to get the guy into a cab and back to Jordan’s place. They’d blown each other sloppily as they undressed, carefully edging each other to the brink before pulling back. It was good. Maybe the booze was helping but Derek liked the easy way they moved together. The guy tasted like cinnamon and coffee and wasn’t afraid to laugh with him as they groped each other. He came practically untouched as Derek fucked him from behind in Jordan’s guest room; Derek’s forehead pressed between the guy’s shoulder blades, coming with a shout as the guy tightened around him.

They lay side by side afterward for a second before Derek pulled off the condom and threw it in the trashcan next to the bed. He handed over his teeshirt once he’d wiped himself quickly with it. The guy mumbled a sleepy thank you before mopping between his legs. When he collapsed back on the pillow, he turned to Derek with a glorious, satisfied smile on his face. “That was…”

Derek smiled back. “Yeah, it was.”

“You want me to go?”

There was a nervousness there, something that smacked of inexperience. Derek shook his head. “No.”

The smile got bigger. “Thank fuck. I don’t think I can walk even if you wanted me to.” They both laughed, and Derek could already feel his eyes getting heavy. The guy twisted a little toward him and stuck out his hand. “I’m Stiles, by the way.”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up in surprise but then he laughed again, gripping Stiles’ hand and formally shaking it. “Derek. Nice to meet you.”

When Derek had woken up in the morning, his head was cloudy and his mouth was dry but his dick was already hard and he was rutting into the meat of Stiles’ buttock where they were spooned together. He started to pull away, embarrassed at being so eager but Stiles’ hand came back around and slapped him awkwardly on the thigh. He sounded half asleep when he mumbled, “Condom. And more lube,” but Derek wasn’t going to say no to that.

When they were ready, he’d pushed Stiles’ onto his back, wanting to see his face as he came. They were both aching and tired from the night before but the way Stiles had grinned up at him had Derek wishing that he could wake up to that every morning.

Stiles talked as they fucked, barely taking a breath; describing in detail every way in which it felt good, or how Derek was a sex god, or how close he was, or how he wanted Derek to come in his ass, and on his chest so he could see it, and fuck his mouth next time. And all Derek could do was whisper, “You’re so fucking beautiful,” over and over into Stiles’ skin as he moved slow, relishing the way Stiles gasped as Derek eased gently in and out of him. He never been one for talking dirty; not saying it or really liking hearing it. Except the way Stiles talked, it wasn’t dirty at all.

Derek came sooner than he wanted to, unable to hold back the aching heat that built before he knew it. But he kept moving and used his hand to bring Stiles off, which seemed to please Stiles no end as he bucked and whimpered—his hands above his head gripping the top of the mattress as his stomach muscles fluttered. Derek had a wavering thought that he could get used to that view too as he slipped off the bed and into the bathroom.

He showered quickly, getting back to to the bedroom just as he heard his ringtone. Stiles shot him a questioning look and pointed to the bathroom as Derek pressed _accept_ on his cell, and whispered, “Towels are on the hamper.”

His eyes lingered as Stiles scooted passed him, and brought the phone to his ear. “Hey, mom”

_“Morning, darling. I didn’t wake you did I?”_

Derek smirked to himself and pulled on a pair of sweatpants with one hand. “No, I’m up. Everything okay?”

_“Everything’s fine. Are you still with Jordan?”_

“Yes. Planning on heading back later.”

_“Excellent. His mother called me this morning. Do you think you’d mind staying in California just a little longer?”_

Derek frowned and dropped the teeshirt he was holding back down on the bed. The sound of Stiles singing Taylor Swift in the shower caught his ear.

It was awful.

Derek smiled and suddenly had a hankering for pancakes. “No, I wouldn’t mind. What’s up?”

  


++++++

  


There was something eerie about a school with no children in it. Derek had never gotten used to it, and although he quite enjoyed the quiet, it always reminded him of a graveyard; a place for people with no people could be seen. He much preferred the hustle and bustle when the kids arrived; hearing the chatter in the hallways and seeing the sea of faces in a classroom. With his whole family being teachers and his parents running their academy back home, he’d always figured teaching was in his blood.

Stiles had dropped him off at the gate with a peck on the lips and a joke about playing nice with the other kids on his first day. There would be no kids today, only teachers prepping for the upcoming year and probably drinking way too much coffee while they all tried to not lose the will to live over lesson plans, extracurricular responsibilities, and endless, crippling paperwork.

He wasn’t nervous exactly but so far he had only met the principal and his department head who attended his interview. She seemed nice enough, a bit overly concerned with hitting targets but Derek wasn’t worried about becoming bosom buddies or anything.

He could see a small group of people lingering by the front door as he walked up and was a little surprised when one of them spotted him and smiled in recognition. Patting a hand on his companion’s shoulder, the tall man extricated himself from the conversation and headed for Derek.

“Mr Hale.”

“Derek.” He took the hand that the guy was holding out and shook it, still having no clue who he was talking to. The teacher was younger, curly headed with a soft smile.

“Yes, of course. Sorry. Force of habit, I guess. I was in your English class at BHH with Stiles before you…” He face gradually froze as he realized what he was saying. “Shit. Sorry. Forget I brought that up. You probably don’t want to talk about that here. Anyway. I’m Isaac. Lahey. Drama.”

Derek had to press his lips together to stifle the smile that was threatening. “Clearly.”

Isaac looked confused for a second before he relaxed and huffed out a laugh. “Oh, yeah. I see what you mean. Especially as I’ve managed to make such an ass of myself and you’ve only been here five minutes.”

Derek adjusted the strap of the messenger bag on his shoulder and shrugged, hoping it would reassure Isaac that it was okay. He hadn’t expected to move back to Beacon Hills without having to bump into ex-pupils who had seen the mess firsthand. “No harm done. It’s bound to come up at some point.”

Isaac smiled sheepishly, and started to turn towards the school. “Well, just slap me in the back of the head or something if I put my foot in it again. Come on, let me introduce you to everyone.”

The day passed in a flash, with a whirl of introductions and kind of getting thrown in the deep end as far getting volundrafted to help with various after school activities. Before he knew it, Derek was pushing his way back out of the door and into the parking lot. He was looking down to check to see if Stiles had replied to his text when he heard a shrill, “Daddy!” as he saw the message _We’re outside._ Derek only had just enough time to shove his phone back in his pocket before Claudia leapt into his arms.

Scooping her up, Derek kissed her on the cheek and received one in return as she excitedly patted his face, her words streaming out in one breath. “Did you have fun at school, Daddy? Papa said if you were a good boy we can get ice cream.”

“Oh, did he? Well, I think I did okay.” His daughter was a little fanatical when it came to ice cream, which was wholly Laura’s fault in his opinion, so he was relieved that she’d asked him if he’d had fun first. He and Stiles’d had one eye on the fact that kindergarten would be just around the corner and were glad she was buying into the idea that school was supposed to be fun.

She babbled as he carried her over to where Stiles was leaning against the side of the car, his arms folded across his chest, and smiling fondly. Even after ten years, Derek still wanted to eat him alive when Stiles looked at him like that.

It hadn’t always been easy. They’d had some ups and some serious downs but they’d worked through it together and always seemed to come out the other side stronger. It had taken a while for Stiles to deal with leaving his life behind to go to New York, and then Derek had struggled when Stiles had finally settled in and started to rely on him less. They’d both tested the limits of their relationship when Claudia had come along; she seemed allergic to sleep for the first year which meant they were both cranky and sleep-deprived on a good day. Stiles would get jealous of the attention that Derek would get from all quarters and Derek would get insecure about their age difference. They fought about stupid stuff and had their fair share of misunderstandings. But always—always—they would talk and negotiate and end up in each other’s arms every night with the air cleared, reaffirming that they had made the right decision all those years before.

“How was it?”

Derek bent to put Claudia on the floor, and stole a kiss from Stiles as he straightened. “Fine. Good enough to get ice cream, I think.”

Stiles smiled, and opened the back door for Claudia, who scrambled into her booster next to her brother who was sacked out and drooling in his baby seat. “You can tell us all about it over a—”

“Stiles?”

Derek turned and saw Isaac striding over, a wide smile on his face. Stiles looked unsure at first and even more surprised when Isaac drew him into a one-armed hug. “Lahey? Hey, man, how are you?”

“I’m good. Nice to see you back home.”

Stiles looked flabbergasted that Isaac was even speaking to him. He glanced to Derek, who could only shrug. Stiles seemed to shake the shock from his head and replied, “Yeah. Yeah, it was time, y’know. You working here?”

Isaac nodded. “A couple of years now. Small world, huh?” He was smiling but Derek could tell from the nervous look on Stiles’ face that he wanted to reply, _too damn small._ “You guys should come to dinner sometime. I know Allison would love to see you. I promise not to talk shop with Derek the whole time.”

Stiles’ eyebrows shot up. “You and Allison, huh?”

“Yeah.” Isaac nodded and shifted on his feet. He looked kind of uncomfortable. “I guess you didn’t…We been married two years now. Trying for kids but so far…Looks like you’re way ahead of us on that,” he said nodding to Claudia and James in the backseat.

Stiles reached out and cuffed Isaac on the shoulder. “You’ll get there. Just enjoy the uninterrupted sleep while you can.”

Claudia’s face appeared in the doorway, leaning out as far as the seatbelt would allow her. “Is the man coming for ice cream too? Because James really wants some ice cream.”

“James is asleep. And the man’s name is Isaac.” Stiles frowned at her as he crouched down to help her upright, but Derek shared a smile with Isaac who looked kinda delighted.

“I’d love to come for ice cream but unfortunately I have to get home. Maybe another time?”

Claudia looked like she was considering the compromise. “Okay. What kind of ice cream do you like?”

“Um…chocolate, I guess. What about you?”

Claudia fiddled with the edging on her dress as she sighed out dramatically, “Pistachio.”

Isaac let out a soft, “Oh,” and looked like he might burst out laughing as Stiles stood up.

“She takes her frozen desserts kinda seriously.”

“I’m getting that.” Isaac did huff out a laugh then. “Anyway, I wasn’t kidding about having to get away. It’s good to see you both. I’m glad you’re back.” He smiled like he genuinely meant it and they said their goodbyes. It wasn’t until they were sitting back in the car that Derek thought to ask, “I didn’t know you and Isaac were friends?”

Stiles shrugged and turned on the ignition. “He was more Scott’s friend. They made the lacrosse team at the same time and ended up all buddy-buddy. Although, if he wound up with Allison, maybe he had an ulterior motive the whole time.”

Derek hmmed and tried not to think too hard about what Stiles’ life was like before he came on the scene. It was hard to reconcile the sweet, funny, intelligent man he’d married with the image of him as a social outcast. Stiles had won round his family in a matter of moments, and had been pretty popular at college. Derek didn’t comment on it, or the fact that Stiles was just sitting there. But he did lay a reassuring hand on Stiles’ arm.

“You okay?”

There was a short pause before Stiles nodded and twitched into life gain, checking the mirror and pulling out. “Yeah, yeah. He took me by surprise is all. Guess, I’m going to have to get used to it.” He smiled but it was strained. “So. Looks like Daddy made a friend already, so maybe he should get rainbow sprinkles?”

Derek wanted to groan but the squeal that came from the backseat had him resigned to the humiliation.

  


++++++

  


“Yeah, it’s a bit more than a mouthful, right?”

It took a second for the voice to register but Derek didn’t have to even look up to confirm that his worse nightmare was playing out. His stomach plummeted and he felt a little lightheaded. His first thought was _Don’t pass out, or scream or...for god’s sake, don’t make it worse_. He squeezed his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and tried to breathe as Stiles just kept talking and talking.

Derek had been rattled by students before now, this wasn’t his first rodeo—although it was only one of his first real teaching gigs. He’d subbed at a couple of places back in New York since qualifying but they were short-term contracts, just a few sessions here and there while he was working on his postgraduate degree. It was just his luck to finally get a half-decent paying job, even if it was only for a few weeks, and then to end up in the one position he’d sworn he’d never put himself in.

Trying to pull himself together, he bit out, a little harsher than he’d wanted to, “Yes, thank you Mr. Stilinski.” He could compartmentalize. He was good at that. He could push the gut-twisting panic away and teach this class with his eyes closed. He didn’t have any choice.

Stiles went quiet and, strangely, Derek missed the sound of his voice immediately. That was until Stiles asked, “Don’t you want to know what I think about Heathcliff?” His tone was dripping with bitterness and hurt and Derek could only hope that no one else was picking up on the tension.

The rest of the period dragged by. Derek did his best to keep it going, to keep everyone’s minds occupied but he’d never been so simultaneously relieved and terrified when the bell sounded.

Calling out for Stiles to stay behind was risky, but not half as risky as letting him leave without first finding out what the hell Stiles was playing at. He wanted to keep it professional, simply have a quiet word but when Stiles froze in the middle of the floor as everyone filed out, forcing Derek to move forward and close the door in McCall’s face, Derek somewhat lost his composure when he turned.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He couldn’t help himself. the words rasped out of his throat in a harsh whisper.

It made things twenty times worse when he saw that Stiles looked as freaked out as he felt. The boy was pale and clearly upset, reaching out for Derek as he stormed back to his desk. “Derek, I swear—”

“Swear what, exactly? That you didn’t know?” Derek sat back on the edge of the desk with his head in his hands, his mind whirring with visions of getting fired or worse. Oh god, what was he going to tell his parents? “Jesus Christ, I can’t believe this is happening.”

Stiles came to stand in front of him. “How in the hell was I supposed to know? You never told me you were working here. Fuck, you never even said you were a teacher!”

There was no way Derek was going to let Stiles turn this around on him. Yes, he was the adult but he wasn’t the one to blame. As far as he was concerned he’d acted in good faith. It was an over-21’s club so how could he have known? As far as Derek knew, Stiles did this kind of thing all the time. Maybe he got some kind of perverse pleasure from tormenting the men he slept with. “Yeah, and what about you? How come you never told me your name, huh? And what was that shit about you being more than a mouthful?”

“Well, I know three people who can actually pronounce my name, including me, so what would you describe it as and—” Stiles mouth flapped shut abruptly, his expression changing rapidly from shocked to disbelieving to hurt. “Oh my god, did you think I was talking about—? You think I would bring that up here? I’m not an idiot, Derek! And as for being secretive, I—shit. I don’t tell people I hook up with my full name because in a town this small there are exactly two Stilinski’s and it kinda freaks people out if they know who my father is.”

Something in Stiles’ eyes had Derek’s insides turn watery. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

Stiles opened his mouth but no words came out. At least, not for a moment. “The sheriff. My dad is the sheriff.”

Derek reached out for the chair and pulled it towards him. He slipped into it heavily, not sure whether his legs could support him anymore. Losing his job wouldn’t be the worse part. Not if he was going to end up on a sex offenders register. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and whispered, “Of course, he is. Oh my god. They’re never going to find my body are they?”

Stiles huffed out a laugh and knocked his knee against Derek’s. “He’s not so bad. Plus, he’ll know this was my fault.”

“No, I think banging his underage son is gonna be my fault.”

“I’m nineteen.”

Derek looked up at him, the faintest glimmer of hope rousing him. “What?”

Stiles shifted his backpack on his shoulder and looked a little embarrassed. “If that’s what you’re worried about then you don’t have to freak out. I had to repeat sixth grade, and my birthday was two weeks ago. Ergo…Besides you weren’t my teacher before today, so…”

Stiles had a point. But more than that, he looked genuinely concerned for Derek. What was worse though, seeing Stiles look at him with wet eyes and clenching his jaw, was that he didn’t look like a child. He looked like the man that Derek had woken up with on Saturday morning, the man with whom he’d made love and ate breakfast and kissed goodbye. The man he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about.

Stiles sighed and looked over his shoulder, clearly concerned about the time. “Look, I swear won’t tell anyone. I think even spending the night with you wouldn’t do my street cred much good. I just need to finish up, get the credits for my scholarship and then I am out of here, okay? Gone. I know it might be a bit awkward and—well, I’m bummed out that you won’t be using my number but let’s just chalk that night up to experience and forget it ever happened, okay?”

The words sounded rehearsed, and like it was actually the last thing Stiles wanted. But Derek understood. Neither of them had any choice. They both had too much to lose. So, Derek just nodded and let Stiles go. At least, until he was almost at the door.

“Hey, Stiles.” He waited until Stiles looked back over his shoulder. “I would have called.”

Stiles smirked, his obscene lips curling up just like they had that night at the club—like he knew without a doubt that Derek wanted him so much it hurt. “Damn straight, you would have. Mr. Hale.”

 

Jordan was at the stove in a wife beater and sweatpants when Derek got back to his place. His friend didn’t bother looking up from the pan he was stirring. “You survived, then?”

Derek sighed and threw his messenger bag onto the couch. “Just about. Don’t you have a shift?”

“Yeah. But I have time to treat my hardworking roommate to dinner before I have to get going.” He turned and slopped spaghetti into the two bowls on the counter. “How was it?”

Derek huffed out a laugh and hoped it came across as tired rather than utterly despairing. “It was okay. Nobody put tacks on my chair or superglued my bag shut.”

Jordan snorted. Mostly as he’d been the one tormenting the substitute teachers with that stuff when they were in school. He pushed one of the plates over to Derek and fished a couple of forks from the drainer. “Don’t worry. They’ll be better prepared tomorrow.”

They ate and chatted. It was easy and familiar. Their parents had been friends a long time and they’d grown up more like cousins than anything else. It seemed natural to spend time together, vacations and holidays, even when they were old enough to decide for themselves who they wanted to spend time with. Derek had always been a little shy and it was hard to make friends when your parents ran the school you attended  and everyone treated you like a spy. But Jordan had never made him feel like he was a freak.

Jordan was the first person Derek had come out to, and Jordan was the one who confided in him about why he wanted to leave the military. They were close but never spent enough time together to get on each other’s nerves like he did with his sisters.

Jordan was just fixing his belt before heading out for his shift when Derek thought to ask, trying to keep it casual, “Stilinski. That’s your boss, right?”

Jordan nodded. “Yup.” Then he grinned and looked over. “Don’t tell me Stiles is in one of your classes?”

“The kid with the unpronounceable name? Yeah.”

Jordan laughed. “Well, no wonder you’re in such a bad mood.” Derek’s heart dropped to his shoes but it was clear that Jordan didn’t mean it like that. “Did he talk you to death?”

Derek shook his head and looked back down at the crossword he was pretending to finish. “No, I just…I couldn’t get a handle on him, y’know? Is he a trouble maker or…?”

To his surprise, Jordan’s expression softened. “No. No, Stiles is a good kid. He’s had it rough. You know his mom died about ten years ago? The sheriff is a good guy but it was hard on them both. Stiles is too smart for his own good and could do with learning to shut up once in a while but no.”

“So, he’s not one of those kids who gets away with everything because his dad has a badge?”

Jordon laughed a little, reached for his jacket and pulled it on, saying, “Not a chance. The sheriff is probably harder on him than anyone else. Plus, Stiles has a good heart. He won’t give you any trouble. I think mostly, he’s a little lonely.” Jordan paused with his hand on the door, looking thoughtful. “Like you.”

  


++++++

  


_“You really think you’ll be in there by Thanksgiving?”_

Derek sighed and turned the glass jars on the shelf so he could read the nutritional values. “We wouldn’t be asking you to come otherwise.” He picked up the one with the red label and contemplated the sodium content. “The realtor reckons it could be as soon as next week if all the paperwork goes through.”

_“Sounds right for moving. But I mean, will you be settled in? There’s a lot of us to descend on you if you and Stiles haven’t unpacked properly.”_

Derek knew what Laura was getting at. They’d lived in their last apartment for five years and there were still boxes that they hadn’t got around to opening that they had just added to the pile of packing cases currently being shipped across the country. “Well, maybe you coming will be the motivation Stiles needs to get it done.”

Laura snorted. _“Right. Because Stiles is the messy one.”_

Derek chuckled. “Yeah. Okay. Maybe it’ll get done with him in charge this time.” James grumbled and Derek put down the jar so he could gently cup the back of his head where the baby was drooling on his chest. The little one was rapidly growing out of the baby carrier but it was still the easiest way to get the groceries done once he’d fallen asleep in the car. “But seriously, we wouldn’t ask you to come if it was going to be a hassle.”

Laura snorted. _“You didn’t ask us. Mom just invited herself. And all of us. Hence me wanting to give you an out.”_ Laura was 100% a pain in his ass and had been his whole life but she was still the best person he knew.

“I miss you. We all miss you,” Derek said softly, feeling a little sad and not for the first time. As much as Stiles and he had kept their own space and didn’t live in his family’s pockets apart from their regular Sunday brunch date and the odd phone call, Derek had been missing the fact that they weren’t a cab ride away since he’d arrived in California. It was probably his sad sigh and tightening his hold on James for comfort that stirred the baby even more and he let out a mewl.

Derek rolled his eyes and tried to sooth James with one hand. It was his own fault for standing in one spot for too long. As Laura said, _“Aw, is that my little monkey?”_ Derek spotted a figured walking towards him and smiled.

“It sure is. Let me put him on.”

As he held out the phone, he could hear his sister croon, _“Oh, sweetheart. How’s my little man?”_

Jordan looked amused as he put the phone to his ear and replied, “I doing fine, Laur, although you’re kinda ruining my self-esteem here.”

Derek laughed and let Jordan and Laura talk while he pulled James from the carrier. He held the baby up to sniff his butt, then straightened his clothes and commiserated that life was indeed unfair while James rubbed his chubby fists clumsily around his eyes and grumbled.

Jordan held out the phone with a shrug—“She said she’d call you later,”— and a look of expectation in his eye.

“You wanna swap?” Derek had to smile at the way Jordan frowned like he was an idiot for even asking.

“Hell, yes.”

Outside of her fathers and Noah, Claudia’s favorite person in the whole world was an equal tie between Laura and Lydia. But for James, it was Jordan all the way. And thankfully the feeling was mutual.

James settled into Jordan’s arms happily, patting his cheek and grabbing at his collar with his little fist. Derek could tell that he already had his eye on the radio clipped to Jordan’s other shoulder.

“They should make toddlers standard issue. He looks good with the uniform.”

Jordon’s lips pulled up in a half-smile. “Whadda you say, Jimmy? Wanna come catch some bad guys with me?” He tweaked James’s chin and the baby looked ready to go given how he squeaked and flapped his arms.

Derek laughed. “Don’t encourage him. I think Noah has already penciled him into the rota.”

Jordan kissed James roughly on the cheek, then finally looked over at Derek. “You got time for a coffee?”

Derek laughed and picked his basket up from the floor. “I miss you asking me for a beer but yeah, let me just check out.”

“I’m not sure that’s safe. The last time I suggested we go to a club, you ended up knocked up and married.”

Derek paid for his groceries and dumped the bags in the car, taking his time to let his best friend and his son have their moment. Jordan spent most of it fending off women who clearly couldn’t cope with a man in uniform holding a baby.

“I’m pretty sure I heard some ovaries exploding back there,” Derek joked as he settle James into a high chair as Jordan put their drinks on the table. The cafe was small but friendly and always gave James his own babycinno in a plastic cup for free when they had the chance to stop by. “Maybe you should think about getting one of these permanently.”

Jordon grimaced and shook his head. “That’s definitely not on the cards. Besides, I like doing the favorite uncle thing. All the adoration and none of the diaper changes.”

“And Lydia is okay with this?”

Derek had always been a little bemused by Jordan’s choice of girlfriend. He’d never been short of women in his life but never seemed inclined to settle down. It had been Stiles that had introduced them a few years before. The three of them had been at a bar having drinks for Stiles’ birthday when the red-head had breezed by. She’d stopped when Stiles had called out, deigned to hug him and somehow she’d ended up sticking around.

Afterwards, when Derek had pointed out how Stiles had been throwing Jordan in her face all night, he’d just shrugged.

“Lydia is a goddess. She’s the smartest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and yet somehow she has the shittiest taste when it comes to men. She needs someone decent. Someone that won’t take her shit but will love her the way she deserves. She’s a woman that should be cherished, Derek. I think Jordan is up to the job.” The look in his eye said _like the way you love me._ Turns out he was right.

Jordan smiled. “Lydia told me practically the first night we spent together that kids were off the table. With her traveling so much and my job...it’s just not a good idea. Besides, neither of us ever wanted a family like that. Not the way you and Stiles do.”

Derek shrugged. “I guess we are kinda making up for you slacking off.”

Jordan huffed out a laugh before sipping his coffee, but then he frowned. “God, don’t tell me you guys are pregnant again?”

Derek laughed so loud, he saw heads turning in his direction. “No! No way. I think Stiles would kill me I even talked about it.”

He picked up a napkin and wiped some milk froth from James’s chin, and the hand holding a spoon, even though James kept his eyes on Jordan the whole time. It wasn’t until he was done that  Derek realized that Jordan was just watching him.

“I don’t think he would,” Jordan said, as he placed his mug back on table. “Both of you always talked about having a big family. I always got the impression he wasn’t kidding about having enough for a baseball team. I don’t think you would hate it either. You’re good at being a dad, Der.”

Derek shook his head. “I think we need to get this one out of diapers first. And even then I don’t know how Claudia would feel about it. I think we’re good.”

Except, of course, after that, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Because if he knew anything, it was that what Stiles wanted, Stiles usually got.

  


++++++

  


Things didn’t exactly go to shit after their post-revelation talk, but it felt like they didn’t get much better either. For all that Derek believed that Stiles had no intention of turning him in to his father—at least he hoped so—Stiles went out of his way to avoid Derek.

And not just from the way he’d catch glimpses of the back of Stiles’ head or his wide eyes suddenly ducking away in the hallways. Even in class, Stiles didn’t engage. For all that he’d heard about Stiles being disruptive and talking too much, he was quiet as a mouse in Derek’s class. The few papers and quizzes that Derek had sprung on them seemed to show that Stiles was listening and learning. But day to day, he just lounged at his desk, sullen and silent. Derek mostly felt guilty, and a little angry at himself for seemingly ruining Stiles’ enjoyment of the last few weeks of school before he moved on.

The guilt ran a little deeper too. Or perhaps just a little darker. It would have been impossible for Derek to do what Stiles had asked; to forget that they had ever spent the night together. Derek couldn’t imagine a circumstance where he would be able to let that experience go. He wouldn’t think about it during the day; he at least had enough control over his emotions for that. But come nightfall, in his bed—the same bed that he had shared with Stiles—without fail, Derek would turn his cheek to the pillow, imagining that he could still smell Stiles on it, remembering how good it had been to press inside him, how sweet he tasted and how Derek’s skin tingled under his breath when Stiles arched into him. It was a relief in many ways that Stiles wouldn’t look him in the eye during the day when Derek couldn’t come without Stiles name on his lips at night.

In many ways it could have been worse. It could have been the start of the year or a permanent position for Derek, but the end was in sight and neither of them had to endure it more than a few weeks.

Which, of course, is when everything _did_ go to shit.

 

“You want a citation? Sure, here.” Stiles snatched the pen from Derek’s hand and started scribbling frantically at the bottom of the page. “Hale. Derek. From his work, let me talk pretty to you before I stick my dick in your ass.”

Derek blanched. Not just at the crudeness but at the volume of Stiles voice, because, oh my god, it was bad enough that Scott was right outside the door but if a member of staff walked by and heard him…

Derek grabbed at Stiles’ arm in a panic and yanked him hard as he hissed out, “For Christ’s sake, keep your voice down!”

Stiles wrenched himself away. He threw the pen back at Derek, looking as furious as Derek had ever seen a man. His hand was shaking as he pointed to the paper. “Change it. Change my grade, I mean it.”

Derek had to take a step back, his voice thready and disbelieving. “Are you threatening me?” Part of him could hardly believe that Stiles would use what had happened to blackmail him over a grade but in his heart he knew he’d been half expecting it.

Except Stiles looked like Derek had slapped him. All the fight went out of him, along with the color in his cheeks, as he whispered, “Oh god, why would think that? I would never do anything to—”

They looked at each other, each of them desperate in their own way, both knowing that however they’d been trying to handle this thing, it really wasn’t working. After Stiles had said his piece, he’d left Derek alone in the classroom to stew. Which Derek duly did.

He had been a jerk. He had expected the worse from Stiles when in reality Stiles had only been trying to do what he’d said from the beginning. Get his grades so he could leave. And save Derek’s dignity while he was doing it.

And if he was really honest with himself, Stiles was right. If they had talked about the stuff Stiles had mentioned in his essay in class, it would be no problem. Except when Derek had seen what he’d written there, their shared thoughts and ideas just casually littered on the page for anyone to see—thoughts that had been debated and honed over breakfast, between kisses, the warm glow of shared intimacy still tingling in his muscles and the taste of Stiles on his lips—, it hurt. Not that Derek thought he had the right to keep those things for himself but rather that he wanted it. Wanted more. It wasn’t exactly spite that drove him to give such a low mark but perhaps part of him had wanted exactly what had happened. For Stiles to lash out, react, say something—anything—after weeks of one word answers and avoiding eye contact.

Except now that he’d been granted his dark wish, Derek just felt like an idiot. There was too much at stake for Stiles and it was stupid of him to be playing games like that, no matter how much of it was subconscious on his part.

After he gathered his things together and finished up for the day, all Derek wanted to do was get in his car, go back to his room and drink himself into a coma. He trudged across the empty parking lot wondering if he could justify cutting back his workouts given how far he had to walk to his damn car everyday when he heard someone calling him.

Derek rolled his eyes and kept walking when he realized it was Stiles running over to him from the lacrosse field, stuffing books and papers haphazardly into his bag. The last thing Derek wanted to do was argue again. Except ignoring Stiles didn’t seem like it was going to be an option.

“Go home, Mr. Stilinski.”

Stiles looked pissed. “Really? I come over here to apologize and you’re just going to blow me off like that?”

Derek unlocked his door and threw his messenger bag and coat on the passenger seat. “Fine. Apology accepted. Now _I’m_ going home.”

“Goddamn it, Derek.” Stiles at least had the good grace to look sorry for the familiarity. “Shit. I mean...I’m not sorry about yelling at you about my grade, ‘cause that was a dick move, really. But I am sorry for scaring you.”

Derek huffed out a laugh but knew right away it was his own bravado. He had to fight the urge to childishly cross his arms across his chest and say ‘I’m not afraid’. Except, of course, he was.

The look on his face clearly didn’t convince Stiles much either. “You prick. I’m trying to do the right thing here, against my better judgement and you think it’s fucking funny?”

“No, Stiles. No, I don’t think it’s funny at all,” Derek hissed across the roof of his car, “And even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t want to discuss this here.”

Stiles slammed his hand down on the Camaro. “Fine. Then let’s go somewhere we can talk about it.” He pointed his finger at Derek and, if his eyes hadn’t been full of hurt, he would have almost looked threatening. “You better damn well follow me, Mr. Hale or the next time we talk about this will be outside the teachers lounge.”

Derek fumed as he drove, more angry at himself than Stiles. He’d been the one doing the provoking. Perhaps if he had managed to keep his mouth shut, they wouldn’t need to have this conversation. Not that Derek really knew what was going to be said. Or in fact where they were going to say it. He’d just blindly got into his car and tailed Stiles’ Jeep out of the parking lot.

It looked for a while as if they were heading into town but before long, Derek found himself driving into the preserve, and surrounded by trees. When Stiles pulled off down a narrow track, Derek prayed the Camaro could take it and followed along.

They pulled up into a clearing along the side of the track. It was so quiet once the engines had been switched off, Derek could see why Stiles had chosen the spot. He couldn’t imagine anyone would be coming by anytime soon.

The door of the Jeep broke the silence as it slammed. Derek had half a mind to lock his doors and shrink down in his seat when Stiles started pacing back and forth, running his hands violently through his hair.

“So.” Derek practically sighed out the word when he finally pulled himself from the car. “You got me here. Now what?”

Stiles stopped in his tracks covering his face for a second with his hands before turning to Derek. He looked calmer but still flushed and looking a little like he’d been roughed up. “Are you going to let me talk without putting words in my mouth?”

Derek shrugged, and Stiles started talking.

And Derek absolutely did not put words in his mouth.

However, forty-five minutes later, Derek did put his dick in Stiles’ mouth. Or rather, Stiles’ ripped open Derek’s fly and sucked him down without so much as asking.

They’d talked it out. Talked about their fears, what they had to lose, and realized that both of them were struggling to let go of what had happened between them.

Derek talked about his plan to go back home at the end of the semester, to teach at his parents private college. When Stiles told him that his scholarship was to Columbia, Derek started to feel hopeful. They talked about waiting, meeting up again in New York, taking their time, being sensible and responsible and before he knew it Derek had Stiles crowded up against the side of his Jeep, his hands under Stiles’ shirt, rutting against him as Stiles devoured his mouth and touched him everywhere.

Afterward, neither of them bothered to pretend that it had been a mistake or that it wouldn’t happen again. They just clung to each other until the shadows were long on the ground, savoring every moment even though they knew this wasn’t the last time.

Derek found himself strangely devoid of regret later. No guilt. No worry. Only caution, more out of concern for Stiles than anything else.

They were careful. Discrete, even. They passed through the school days without changing anything about the way they behaved, saving it all for the times they could be alone. It didn’t even seem dangerous, just a way to count down the weeks until they could be together on the other side of the country.

At least that’s how it seemed.

Right up until the moment in Stiles’ bedroom, as Derek lay back, watching Stiles’ lips engulf him and his hand moving frenetically on his own length. He was transfixed, completely absorbed, so much so that he almost didn’t register the sound of the front door slamming and feet on the stairs.

Derek sure as hell registered the horror on Stiles’ face and the way he struggled to pull up his pants. When Derek saw that it was Scott in the doorway, he was almost relieved. The idea of the sheriff catching them was more than his brain could cope with. But in the end, maybe it would have been better if the sheriff had found them after all.

  


++++++

  


Derek shook the hand of the guy in charge and passed him an envelope of cash with the tip inside. The movers had worked their asses off carrying box after heavy box of books into the new house, and Derek felt a little guilty that maybe he should have tipped them more. But still he closed the front door finally with a long sigh of relief.

Stiles’ original idea of getting a house in the same road as his dad had to be tempered slightly when nothing was available. They’d managed to find somewhere close by that they could afford and they could move into quickly. It had worked out great as the house was a little bigger and the garden a little wider, and Stiles could still walk over to check on the contents of his dad’s fridge with little effort. The place was tidy although Derek knew they would definitely end up redecorating the sad magnolia walls and pine everything before too long. But for now it was okay. A world away from their pokey apartment in New York.

Derek walked back down the hall to the kitchen, almost stumbling over the rug that was rolled up and laying to the side.

“The glassware made it.” Stiles held up a tumbler as he stood at the kitchen counter, looking triumphant amid a sprawl of old newsprint and bubblewrap.

“Now we just need a beer to go in it,” Noah mumbled as he bent over James’s half-assembled high chair, Allen key in hand and a scowl on his face.

Derek couldn’t have agreed more although with Stiles clearly opening his mouth to argue, Derek felt the need to intervene. “Well, I’m starving so how about I go pick up some dinner and retrieve the kids from Melissa? Pizza sound good?”

He picked up the car keys from the kitchen counter where he’d dumped them earlier but Stiles stepped over and drew them out of his hand as he pecked a kiss to Derek’s lips. “How about I go, and you and Wonder Dad over there can get the monkey’s crib and Claudie’s bed put together?”

Derek frowned at the thought. Mostly as it reminded him just how much work it was going to be to unpack and rebuild all the furniture. And besides, he was pretty sure that the kids would end up sleeping in their bed that night. Claudie understood well enough about coming to live in the new house but knowing a thing and spending the night alone in a strange room in a strange place were two different things; no matter how precocious you were. Plus, he knew Stiles secret loved it when they all piled in together.

Stiles smiled and smoothed his thumb over the frown lines on Derek’s forehead before he turned and headed for the door. “Do I need to ask which pizza—?”

“Meatlovers” Derek and Noah answered in unison which, as always, made Stiles roll his eyes and mutter, “Freaks,” under his breath as he left.

Noah waited until he heard the front door slam before he straightened up and walked right to the basement door. Derek was confused until Noah walked back holding out two bottles. “Aperitif?”

Derek laughed and took the beer, twisting off the lid. “Don’t mind if I do.”

They ended up sitting out on the back porch on a couple of packing boxes looking over the unkempt lawn and straggly trees. The weather in California never got as cold as New York but there was a definite chill in the air.

“I should really be the one supplying the beer tonight,” Derek mused, “to thank you for helping today. Well, and for putting up with us the last few months.”

Noah shook his head. “No. I should be the one thanking you for persuading Stiles to come home.” He took a draft of his beer and added quietly. “The house is going to be awfully quiet tomorrow.”

“Well, if you’re stuck for something to do…” Derek nodded towards the stacks of boxes piled in the dining room.

Noah laughed. “I don’t think it’ll be that quiet. I could do with sleeping in and lazing on the couch while I can. Maybe watching something that doesn't have dancing mice in it.”

“I guess you’ll be heading back to work soon?”

Noah contemplated his beer, turning the bottle in his hands. “Yeah, about that…” Derek was surprised to hear him sound so unsure. “How’s Jordan doing?”

Derek frowned. The sheriff calling Jordan anything other than ‘Parrish’ was unusual in itself but he had the feeling that this wasn’t a change in topic either. “He’s doing okay. You’d probably know better than me if you mean about work. He doesn’t talk to me about that stuff.”

Noah nodded. “He’s done a good job these last few months. Being sheriff isn’t easy and he’s taken to it like a duck to water.”

“Acting-sheriff.” Derek felt the need to correct him. Noah was still in charge and Jordan had been keen to make sure that everyone kept reminding him of it. Jordan loved the guy and had only taken on the role after Noah had been shot on the proviso that it was only until the sheriff was well enough to come back to work.

Noah huffed out a derisive laugh at the term. “Well, do you think he’d like to stop acting and do it for real?”

Derek almost dropped his beer. “Are you serious?” Noah shrugged and Derek could only shake his head in surprise. “You really want to retire?”

“Honestly? I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I like the job but I’m not as young as I used to be and maybe it could do with some new blood. I had been thinking that I would sell up and come to the east coast to be nearer to the grandkids but now…”

“What would you do with yourself?” It was an honest question. To Derek, and a lot of the townsfolk, it was hard to imagine anyone else doing the job. There was almost no question of him losing out come election time and the idea of calling anyone else ‘Sheriff’ just seemed odd, even to Derek.

Noah shrugged. “Oh, I’m sure there’s plenty I could do. Fishing? I think I used to like that. Taking Claudie to Little League or just watching her so Stiles can work. I know she’ll be starting school soon but I’m sure James will still want to hang out with his grandpa.”

“So, you’re basically saying you’d give up your job to babysit our kids?”

“Can’t think of a better reason.” Noah looked deadly serious, something that still made Derek a little nervous if he was honest. “I missed almost ten years of Stiles’ life, Derek. I missed out on the first six of Claudie’s. I don’t want to waste another moment if I don’t have to. It was stupid of me to wait until I nearly died to figure that out. I have money saved and my pension will be more than fair—”

“Have you talked to Stiles about this?”

“Not yet. You know how he gets. I wanted to be sure. I think I’ll work out this last term and then put Parrish up for the job if he wants it.”

Derek tilted his head and took a drink. “Oh, I think he’ll want it. Only with your blessing though.”

“He’s a good kid.” Derek had to smile. Noah would probably still call Jordan a kid even if he was governor. “And you are too, just in case I haven’t said it lately.” Derek winced at the affection but Noah slapped him on the shoulder. He kept his hand there and shook him lightly. “I mean it. You make my boy so happy and you take care of him and those kids better than I could have asked of anyone. I’m grateful. I just wish his mother could have…”

They invariably ended up here when they talked about Stiles, skirting close to emotions that Noah couldn’t handle and Derek couldn’t comprehend.

Derek patted Noah on the back and sighed. They sat that way for a moment before Noah released Derek’s shoulder and straightened up on his seat. “I guess we should get to putting that crib together before he gets back.”

Derek nodded and smiled, grateful that he could spend time like this with Noah. They both loved Stiles so fiercely that under different circumstances it could have made things impossible between them. Instead, Derek felt as much a part of Stiles’ family as his own.

He stood and stretched out his back, groaning a little. “Y’know James with just end up in our bed anyway.”

Noah smiled. “Well, yeah. But are you gonna be the one to tell Stiles we didn’t do it?”

Derek started walking. “You have a point.”

  


++++++

  


Derek’s head was slumped into his hands at the kitchen table when Jordan got home from work. His friend breezed in with a quick hello and started rambling about his day while he slipped off his service belt and locked it in the safe behind the couch. Derek sat quietly, trying not to give in to the rising panic in his gut. His body ached like he’d been through a meat grinder but the adrenaline flowing through him was keeping him upright.

It didn’t take long for Jordan to realize that the eerie silence coming from Derek wasn’t okay. “Hey man. Are you alright?”

Derek’s mouth was dry and the tension in his neck made it feel like his throat was closing up but he managed to rasp out, “No. No, I’m not.”

“Fuck, Der.” Jordan pulled out the chair next to him and sat down leaning into his space. “What’s happened?”

Derek huffed out a laughed. _Where the fuck do I start?_   “I’m—shit, I need a favor. I know you just got off work but could you—would you come with me? I need to be somewhere.”

The reassuring hand on his shoulder helped. “Of course, man. Give me two minutes to change, okay?”

Derek didn’t say anything. Jordan didn’t either outside of questioning whether Derek was in a fit state to drive. They sat in silence for the whole journey. Even when Derek pulled up outside the Stilinski’s house.

They walked to the front door, Jordan following on unquestioningly behind Derek, except when he got there, Derek couldn’t bring himself to press the door bell. Thankfully, Jordan reached around him and did it for him. It was a testament to how good a friend he was that he didn’t say a word.

As soon as Stiles opened the door, Derek found himself feeling surprisingly calm. He’d been driving himself to distraction since they had seen each other the night before, but now they were here and there was no turning back, Derek just wanted to get it over with.

Stiles looked awful; pale and drawn, his hair spiked up like he’d been running his hands through it all day, his teeshirt rumpled and his pale jeans stained. He didn’t seem surprised to see Jordan even though Derek hadn’t mentioned bringing him along, just pushed the door wide and stepped back enough to let them in.

Derek had enough time to walk into the front room and turn around before he heard feet coming down the stairs. His heart leapt to his mouth for a second then Noah Stilinski walked in the room looking more like a dad than the sheriff of Beacon Hills. “Parrish? What brings you here?”

Derek recognized him, of course, from the pictures on the walls and Stiles’ facebook account, but somehow he hadn’t expected him to sound quite the way he did, or for him to have quite such a foreboding presence. It reminded Derek weirdly of his mother, the way he seemed to take up the whole room.

Jordan cleared his throat. “I’m not entirely sure, sir.”

Noah frowned then looked to Derek. “And you are?” He didn’t sound angry at the intrusion, merely curious.

“This is Derek,” Stiles said, gesturing weakly in his direction, not taking his eyes from the floor. “Derek Hale.”

Noah held out his hand, and by some miracle Derek managed to take and shake like a normal human being instead of screaming and flinging himself through the window.

“Okay. Someone wanna tell me what’s going on?” Noah might have made the statement general but he was looking at his son.

“Can we—?” Stiles started to gesture towards the couch but ended up going over to sit down instead.

Noah took the recliner and Jordan sat in the chair by the window, leaving Derek to take the other end of the couch from Stiles. They sat awkwardly for a moment. Stiles was wringing his hands and his knee was bouncing. Without thinking, Derek reached over and covered his hands with one of his own for a second. He wasn’t sure if the look of surprise on Noah’s face was that he’d had the balls to touch his son so intimately in front of him or that Stiles had actually stopped fidgeting.

Stiles took a deep breath. “I need to tell you something.” His voice was quiet at first but then grew more confident. “But you have to let me tell the whole thing before you butt in and start yelling or whatever.”

Noah looked angry already but his voice was gentle. “I won’t yell at you, Stiles.”

“Just don’t jump to any conclusions until I’m done, okay?”

Noah frowned, like he wanted to argue but waved his hand in a _lets-get-this-over-with_ way.

Stiles nodded. And kept nodding and cleared his throat a couple of times before Derek asked quietly, “Do you want me to—?”

Stiles shook his head. “No. No, I…” He looked to his father as he thumbed over his shoulder at Derek. “I met Derek when he came to town about a couple of months ago. At—a club.”

The way he said it and the way his father’s eyebrows shot up, it was clear that a) Noah knew his kid was gay, and b) that he knew what Stiles really meant was that they had slept together. It also didn’t help the revelation any when Jordan took that moment to groan out, “Oh, for god’s sake.”

“How old are you, Derek?” Noah’s voice was level but he still managed to sound threatening.

“Twenty-four, sir.”

“I see. And you thought it was a good idea take advantage of a drunk teenage boy?”

“See!” Stiles almost jumped out of his seat. “This is what I mean about you jumping to conclusions! You know I never drink when I go there, plus I’m nineteen! Totally legal! And Derek had no idea I wasn’t twenty-one.”

“So, you lied to him about your age?”

Stiles growled in frustration. “This isn’t—this isn’t about that, okay? Please, _please_ let me finish. Because apart from anything else, it gets much, much worse.”

Noah froze. “How much worse?”

Stiles mouth clamped shut. He looked wrung out, so Derek sat forward. “I was here on vacation, visiting Jordan. But when I was due to leave an opportunity came up to teach at Beacon Hills High School for a few weeks as a substitute.”

It took Noah a second. “You teach at the High School?”

Derek nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“You teach at Stiles’ High School?”

Derek nodded again.

“You’re not _Stiles_ ’ teacher?” The was a pleading note in the way Noah spoke that sounded like he really wanted Derek to say no.

“As soon as we realized, Stiles and I agreed that we wouldn’t see each other anymore.”

Noah rubbed his temple with one hand and snorted derisively. “Right. How long did that last?”

He looked over at his son seemingly resigned to the truth. Stiles scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Look. Once the semester is over Derek is going home to New York. I’ll have my scholarship to Columbia. We always planned to keep seeing each other—” Stiles waved his own thought away. “That’s beside the point.”

“Really?” Noah was starting to lose his temper. “Well, I figure you’re not pregnant so what in the hell is the point?”

Stiles jumped up as Noah raised his voice. For a second, it looked like he was going to flee but he only stomped over to the bookcase and pulled out a stack of papers from between the DVDs.

He thrust them at his father. “These are the point.”

Derek looked away, slumping back on the couch and pressing his curled fingers to his mouth.  He’d seen the notes before and had no desire to see them again, even from a distance. He caught Jordan’s eye and was surprised to see just how worried he looked. Derek thought he might be angry—for sleeping with Stiles, for not telling him, or for showing him up in front of his boss—but no, he looked only concerned. For Derek.

“Jesus.” Noah looked down at one of the notes he was reading, just shaking his head and looking a little shocked. “Are they all like this?”

Stiles shrugged. “Depends. Are you talking about the homophobia, the threats or colorful language?”

“I can think of another word than colorful,” Noah mumbled. Finishing the first letter, he held it out to Jordan without looking up as he began reading another.

Jordan had to get up and walk around the coffee table to get it. His eyes only scanned for a second before he said, “Jesus. How long have you been getting these, Der?”

Derek cleared his throat. “Not me. Just Stiles.”

“About three weeks,” Stiles mumbled.

“Three—? And I’m only hearing about this now, why?” It was amazing how Noah could sound so furious without raising his voice. Or it would have been if Derek hadn’t been pinned by his icy glare.

“I only told Derek about them yesterday. The first thing out of his mouth was that we had to tell you everything.”

It hadn’t been the first thing or even the third. Only after Derek had raged, and sworn and dented the hood of his car with his fist, did he tell Stiles in no uncertain terms that they were going to his father and getting everything out in the open. Stiles hadn’t even tried to argue. It was clear he wanted to, the way his mouth opened and closed fruitlessly, but he could clearly see that Derek was having none of it. Instead, Stiles had simple walked up and leaned his whole weight into Derek so he had no choice but to wrap his arms around him and hold Stiles tight.

Derek didn’t say that though. “Apart from anything else, this kind of harassment seems like it should be a police matter.”

Noah hmmed, leafing through the papers on his lap. “Which is why you brought Parrish?”

Derek had to huff out a laugh at that. “No. I—I brought Jordan just in case you decided to shoot me, sir.”

Noah scowled as he looked up. “I’m disappointed you think that I would do that, Mr. Hale.” Derek relaxed just a little until he added, “I’d be an idiot to shoot you in my own house when I can wait to do it somewhere I don’t have to clean up.”

Derek wasn’t sure if he was joking but decided, either way, that he was sure the sheriff wasn’t going to let anything happen to Stiles. Now all he had to do was to prove to him that he wasn’t going to either.

  


++++++

  


The bar was starting to get loud but Derek didn’t feel much like moving. He was pressed up against Stiles in the booth watching Isaac walking back from the bar empty handed. He shrugged and said, “They had to change the barrel. She’ll bring it over,” as he slid back into his seat.

Stiles didn’t notice, too engrossed in conversation with Allison and Lydia to pay attention, although he kept a tight hold of Derek’s hand under the table. Even Jordan, who was frowning at Boyd as they discussed...whatever the hell they were embroiled in this time, hadn’t noticed the pitcher on the table was empty. They’d all die of dehydration if it weren’t for Derek and Isaac. Or worse, they’d be sober.

This was a regular thing now. Everyone meeting up at Harley’s for drinks on a Friday night. Or at least everyone that was available. Sometimes Jordan was on duty or Lydia was away on business. Very often it was just Isaac and Allison, Stiles and Derek.

It had sort of started when Derek and Stiles had finally agreed to go around to dinner. Isaac had been bugging Derek about it, although it was evident from the harried look on his face that he was clearly the middle man for Allison. They’d taken the kids the first time, rocking up on the doorstep of their comfortable house for a late lunch. Stiles had been a little nervous and clung to Claudia like she was a human shield of cuteness.

Allison managed to keep it together for about thirty whole seconds before she burst into tears. Stiles wrapped his arms around her and held her close. In the end, Derek and Isaac _did_ end up talking shop, planning out the end of year musical while Derek bottle fed a sleepy James in his arms, and Isaac stirred the sauce between making notes. Claudia had hummed to herself and colored in a tap-dancing unicorn that Stiles had drawn in her busy book next to them at the kitchen counter like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Stiles and Allison had sat out in the garden, wrapped together in a blanket and talked for over an hour. Derek hadn’t asked what they said to each other and Stiles never told him but once they came back in, they were closer than they’d ever been. It made Derek so happy to see Stiles smile that way, that it seemed natural to suggest they all meet up the following week and the week after that, even if Stiles was a little taken aback.

“ _Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”_

_“Are you saying you don’t want to go out for drinks?”_

_“No, I’m just…I’m just surprise that you of all people would suggest it. I know you’d rather spend the time with your face in a book._ ”

_“Well, maybe I like your friends.”_

_“Uh-huh.”_

_“Or maybe I just Ike you.”_

_“Oh really.”_

_“Probably not as much as Isaac likes you but—”_

_“Shut up and take off your pants, Mr. Hale.”_

 

It had turned out that Isaac was a fan.

Of Stiles.

It was a little awkward at first—Stiles was still a little self conscious about talking about his work—but when Isaac had asked him if he’d autograph some graphic novels and had come back with what amounted to the entirety of Stiles’ back catalogue, it was kind of hilarious. He even had some issues of comics that had come out of a small press when Stiles was just drawing strips for fun. Stiles didn’t even have copies of those so he was pretty impressed.

Stiles worked under a pseudonym but apparently his dad had been less than subtle when his first book had made it into the local comic book store, so before long everybody knew who D. O’Brien was. Isaac had spent ages that evening quizzing Stiles about his story ideas, what plans he had for the series, and how he decided how each character would look. Derek thought he much actually bust a nut when Stiles told him Boyd, Stiles’ colorist, would be coming to town.

Derek had a lot of time for Boyd. The guy was quiet but quick, patient as all hell which was a plus when it came to handling Stiles in the early days, and one of the funniest people Derek had ever met despite his deadpan demeanor. He’d told Stiles to ask Boyd to Thanksgiving on a whim and was really pleased that he could come up for the week.

“So, you ready for the family tomorrow?” Isaac asked, as he settle back in his seat.

Derek nodded. “Yeah, I think so. We’ve unpacked the last box yesterday and I think Stiles has cleaned everything twice.” He might have had to clean his desk three times after Derek decided they needed to christen it in honor of being the final piece in the puzzle of their future life in Beacon Hills.

_“It’s the same desk we christened in New York when I first got it, remember?”_

_“Are you telling me you don’t want me to fuck you over this desk?”_

_“Pfft,_ **_no_ ** _. It’s like you don’t even know me. Lube’s in the top draw.”_

 

Derek smiled at the memory and squeezed Stiles’ hand under the table.

“You excited to see them?”

Derek shrugged. “Yeah. I know Claudie is going to go nuts at the airport. But I’m kinda nervous too.” Isaac looked a little worried but Derek just laughed. “No, I mean—I don’t know. I just want them to be happy for us. I do miss them even though I speak to at least one of them a day. But I really want them to know that we’re okay.”

Isaac tilted his head. “Well, you sure seem to be. You have a good job and a great house. And all of these fine people.” He swept his hand in a gesture that encompassed everyone at the table. “It looks like you’ve settled in fine to me.”

Derek nodded and smiled and leaned back when the waitress arrived with another pitcher for the table. But it wasn’t until later, once they were home and after Stiles had walked the babysitter back to her house and they were getting ready to fall into bed, that it really struck Derek that it was exactly how he was feeling.

“Do you realize that we’ve unpacked?”

Stiles looked across the bed, frowning as he stood there, unbuttoning his shirt. “Exactly how many beers did you have tonight?”

Derek huffed out a laugh and pulled his socks off along with his jeans. “No, really. Think about it. In all the last ten years when have we really been unpacked?”

Derek glanced over his shoulder and saw Stiles making the face that meant he was trying to think of ammunition to argue with but couldn’t.

It was undeniable. When they had stayed with Derek’s parents, there had at least a box each of stuff that got shoved into the bottom of Derek’s closet that they would dive into occasionally but never thought to decant onto the shelves.

The same thing happened in their first apartment. Sure, they might have convinced themselves that the digs were only temporary while Stiles finished up school but that didn’t change the fact they never truly settled there.

They didn’t even have that excuse when they moved to the larger apartment when Claudia was a year old. It was more like they had other things to do with work and a baby. And then baby number two. But even with their own little family and their jobs and Derek’s family being right there, if he was honest, it definitely had felt like he was biding his time.

“I think this is it for us. I think this is our forever home.”

Stiles snorted and pulled back the sheet to get in. “We’re not rescue dogs, Derek.”

Derek rolled his eyes and slipped in beside his husband. “You know what I mean. I feel settled. Like this is permanent. Like Claudie and James will grow up in this house and we’ll grow old here together and one day we’ll sit in the backyard watching our grandkids playing.” Derek shuffled over until he was close enough, then pulled Stiles under him, settling between his legs. “It feels like we’re home.”

Stiles smiled up fondly, cupping Derek’s cheek and pulling his fingers through Derek’s beard. “I think you definitely had too much beer.” He held Derek close when he tried to pull away. “But that doesn’t make you wrong.”

The kiss was chaste, little more than a peck that was lingering and soft, but Derek knew that it meant more was on the way. He’d received kisses like it from Stiles a thousand times or more but it always felt like it would never be enough. There was something about this thing between them, something that Derek never tired of. They’d always moved together well, right from the start but still they had practiced and refined it. Derek felt so attuned to Stiles’ wants and needs, he couldn’t imagine living without him for a second, and just wanted to spend his whole life giving Stiles everything he desired.

Stiles smirked up at him. “Oh god. I know that look. I’ve seen it at least twice before.”

Derek shrugged and licked his lips. “I didn’t say a word.”

“You didn’t need to.” Derek ducked his head and sucked a line of kisses down Stiles’ chest. Stiles cleared his throat. “Honest to god, Derek. Don’t we have enough going on right now?”

“It doesn’t have to be right now. We can talk about it, can’t we?.” Derek whispered, before he sucked one of Stiles’ nipples into his mouth, relishing the way Stiles’ body arched into him and his breath caught in his throat.

“Shit. We don’t even know if Sheryl wants to do the surrogate thing again.”

Derek hmmed against Stiles skin, brushing his lips across his ribs, as he pushed his fingers under the waistband of Stiles boxer briefs and eased them over his hip bones. “We could adopt.”

Stiles huffed out a laugh. “Really? Are you being serious? I thought you were just trying to get into my pants.” Derek frowned up at him, making Stiles laugh again. “I know you, Mr. Hale. You and all your fetishes.”

“It’s not a fetish,” Derek grumbled, biting his way back up to Stiles’ smirking mouth.

“Oh really?” Stiles voice lowered just a little. “You saying the thought of me chained in the kitchen, barefoot, and surrounded by children doesn’t do it for you?”

“Stop it.”

“You saying that if it was anyway physically possible you _wouldn’t_ want to see me breastfeeding our ninth kid, with my belly swollen with number ten?”

Derek’s dick twitched and his heart grew warm at the thought but still… “That’s so stupid. I should block that website you’ve been reading.”

Stiles kissed him, licking his mouth and grinding his cock against Derek’s until they were both panting and a little desperate. He tasted like beer and spearmint and Derek loved him so much he thought he might split open. Stiles let his lips slide to Derek’s ear and he whispered, “Come on, Mr. Hale. Put a baby in me. Show me how much you still love me.”

  


++++++

  


Noah arrived at the principal’s office at much the same time as Derek, looking worried as all hell. “Did they call you in?”

Noah shook his head. “Stiles called me. Told me about what happened. I heard him start in on Jackson before he hung up and I was nearby…” He wiped a hand across his brow. It only took a second for him to change from worried father to sheriff. Crossing his arms across his chest, he asked, “You wanna tell me what happened?”

Derek had to shrug. “I wasn’t there. I was doing some prep in the teachers’ lounge when I heard.” Harris had come in, gloating about the fact the Stiles was going to be expelled this time for sure. It had been all he could do to not punch the guy’s lights out. But the sheriff didn’t need to know that. Mostly, as Derek had a feeling that the sheriff might take it upon himself to do the very same thing. “Maybe I should have checked on him earlier, sent him home or something—”

Derek started when Noah reached out and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think there was anything you could have done. He got another note, a bad one. That’s what set him off. So aside from following him around all day, you couldn’t have done anything, okay?”

Derek nodded. What else could he do? Noah was being so damn reasonable about all this. He knew that the sheriff had quizzed Jordan about Derek’s background and suitability after they had spoken and he had been invited to the Stilinski house for dinner a couple of times since. Although whether it was a show of support or an outright threat from Noah, Derek still wasn’t sure. But he’d gone and ate surprisingly good meatloaf and watched baseball with Noah while Stiles did his homework, and found himself actually liking the man.

Noah sighed heavily and opened his mouth to speak. But at that moment, the principal chose to show up. He greeted the sheriff with a grim look on his face as he opened his office door. He looked surprised to see Derek there before trying to dismiss him. “If you’ll excuse us, Mr. Hale—”

“Actually,” Noah interrupted, “I’d like Derek to stay. He’s a friend of the family.”

The principal didn’t argue, just ushered them both into his office. “I hope I don’t need to impress on you the severity of what happened today. Mr Whittemore is on his way and we’ll discuss it fully then but you have to know we can’t tolerate this kind of thing. Stiles has always had some issues but attacking another student like this out of the blue is not something that can be swept under the carpet.”

“It’s not out of the blue.” Noah’s tone was even and measured despite his clear concern. “Stiles has been the target of a bullying campaign for the last month or so. He believes the Whittemore boy is the culprit.”

The principal looked more angry then shocked. “Well, that’s the first I’ve heard about this. You didn’t think to inform the school? I’m assuming he has proof?”

“It wasn’t happening exclusively at school so it was more of a police matter. I’ve been looking into it but as yet I have no evidence either way. Stiles was pretty certain though.”

“Evidently.” The principal sniffed and moved some papers around on his desk. “And you Mr. Hale. What was your role in all this?”

Something about the way he said it made Derek think that perhaps—just maybe—this whole situation wasn’t news to the principal after all. He knew that teachers were just as big on gossip as the students and perhaps they had their own version of the Derek/Stiles story that was being bandied around behind his back.

“I asked Derek to keep an eye on Stiles during school hours.” Noah answered before Derek had a chance. “I figured that he’d be more likely to talk to someone closer to his own age.”

It sounded convincing, plausible even, but the principal still eyed Derek with suspicion. He started to say, “I see—” when there was a shout and a crash from outside that had all three men on their feet.

Derek was first out; first to see Stiles hunched over a body on the floor, his bandaged fist raised in the air and striking down. A sound was coming from him, a barely intelligible scream, that made Derek’s chest ache.

Derek bent and grabbed Stiles around the waist, hauling him off as Stiles blindly lashed out. They stumbled across the hallway, with Stiles only finding his feet for the last few steps, before he crashed into the wall and slid to the floor.

Derek could hear Noah shouting but all his attention was on Stiles who was going to pieces in front of him. Derek crouched down, wanting to drag Stiles into his arms but too afraid that it would make things worse. “Jesus, what happened?”

Stiles was sobbing, uncontrolled and angry. He could barely speak but Derek got it. Scott—who Stiles loved like a brother, who Stiles had trusted above all others, who Stiles had called his soulmate—he had sent the letters, had humiliated and bullied Stiles, and it had broken him.

Noah got his attention, and Derek reluctantly left Stiles’ side, letting Noah pull him to a corner. “Take him home for me,” Noah said quietly, “That asshole Whittemore will be here soon. I’ll stay here and try to straighten this mess out as best I can.”

Derek nodded. “I’ll just grab my stuff.” He could have come back later for it but Derek didn’t want to step foot in the place again if he could help it.

Stiles was compliant, wearing silence and glassy eyes like armor the entire journey home. He asked once where his dad was when they got through the front door but Derek wasn’t sure he even heard the answer. He looked like he was in shock. When Derek asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital to have someone check out his hand, Stiles had a panic attack and spent the next hour sobbing in Derek’s arms until he finally passed out.

When Noah got home he looked drained. He bypassed Derek sitting at the kitchen table and went straight for the whiskey. Derek didn’t argue when Noah pushed a large measure under his nose.

‘How is he?”

“Sleeping. He had some sort of…panic attack, I think, some kind of… I talked him down.” The liquor burned Derek’s throat. “How did it go at the school?”

Noah’s eyes had the same sheen that Stiles had worn. “He’ll lose his scholarship for sure. I managed to talk Whittemore out of pressing charges, but there’ll be a restraining order…” Noah rubbed his face with both hands. “God. ‘Times like these I wish his mother was here.”

They talked a little, drank more. While Noah was ordering food, Derek had a thought. It built as Noah went to change out of his uniform and they sat pretending to watch last night’s game, until it was so loud, Noah turned the TV down, and twisted in his seat to face him.

“Come on. Out with it.”

Derek hesitated but figured the day couldn’t get any worse. “I think you should let me take Stiles to New York.” Noah’s eyebrows shot up but it was more in inquiry than offense. Derek took a shuddering breath and went on. “I’ve got a couple of weeks left on my contract but I’m not sure they’ll want me back even if I wanted to finished. I think this thing with the letters has taken more out of Stiles that either of us realized. Things might be up in the air about Stiles’ college applications for a while so—he could use a vacation, to get away from Scott and all of this for a while. And I kinda want to go home.”

Noah sighed. “You want me to give _you_ permission to take _my son_ to the other side of the country? And where exactly would you be staying when you get there?”

“With my parents. Jordan can vouch for them. Or you can call them yourself.”

“Do they know about all this? About Stiles?” Derek had to shake his head. Laura knew. It was Pavlovian how Derek had the need to tell her every little thing that was going on in his life. But his parents had no idea. Not yet. “You think they’ll be pleased with you turning up out of the blue with a teenage boy?”

“Probably not. But I know they’ll want to look after him. My mom might even have some way of smoothing things out with Stiles’ scholarship.” Noah did look surprised then. Derek huffed out a laugh. “She loves to throw her weight around when she thinks it’ll make a difference.”

Noah hmmed and contemplated his empty glass. “You talked to Stiles about this yet?”

Derek shook his head. “No, sir. I’m not sure he’s in the best place to make good decisions right now.”

Noah looked at him for a long time. “No. I don’t think he is either.”

 

Less than a week later, Derek stood next to the laden Camaro, leaning on the open door and looking over the roof at Stiles hugging his dad goodbye for about the fifth time that morning.

“You call me as soon as you get to the motel, you hear me?” Noah’s voice was muffled in Stiles’ shoulder. Derek could tell Stiles was rolling his eyes even though he had his back to him.

“Just make sure you charge your phone, okay?”

Noah cupped Stiles’ jaw as he pulled away. “Be good, kiddo.” He looked over at Derek and nodded. They had said their goodbyes the night before; goodbyes that were mostly a list of instructions, vague threats, and actual concrete threats about what would happen to specific parts of Derek’s body if anything happened to Stiles while they were together. The nod was less of a farewell and more of a reminder.

Stiles poked his father in the chest. “No burgers while I’m gone. I’ll be checking up. Don’t think I don’t have the diner on speed dial just because I’m out of state.”

Derek huffed as he slid into his seat and pulled the door closed. He pushed back one of the bags that was threatening to spill through the gap between the seats, expecting to wait another fifteen minutes for the Stilinskis to let go. But then there was a far off shout and suddenly Stiles was in the car.

Noah leaned in the window. “Okay, get out of here. Take care of my boy, Hale.”

Derek was a little confused but a glance in his mirror had him starting the engine. “I will. I promise.”

Noah squeezed Stiles arm once and stood back and Derek drove away, checking his mirror again in time to see Scott pointlessly racing down the sidewalk, his eyes wide and desperate even from a distance as he called after Stiles.

Stiles didn’t look back. He kept his eyes so firmly fixed on the windshield as they drove that Derek started to worry that he’d changed his mind but was too afraid to say anything.

“We can go back, y’know.” Derek glanced over at his passenger as he pulled onto the highway. “As soon as you want to go home, you just need to say so.”

Stiles was quiet for a while before reaching forward and starting to fiddle with the radio. “And what if I don’t want to go back?” he asked quietly. “What happens if you get stuck with me?” He wasn’t smiling. He hadn’t smiled for days, but somehow Derek felt the warmth in his words.

“I don’t know,” Derek said gently, adjusting his hands on the steering wheel. “I think I could probably live with that.”

  
  
  


++++++

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp...that didn’t take me three years...except of course now I want to know what Stiles and Allison talked about and what happened when Stiles and Derek first arrived in NY and whether they end up with another kid...so there will probably be another chapter...if you want one...just not for a while. I need to get a book out this month.
> 
> Also, it’s super hard to write ‘Noah’ when I’ve been writing and reading ‘John’ all this time. Anyone else find that or is it just me?

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a kudos if you read it.  
> Leave a comment if you like it.  
> Muses think comments are delicious ♥


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